Grimleal's Wrath
by TwiliRupee
Summary: It has been seven years since the fell dragon Grima was defeated, and four years since Ylisse's tactician has returned to the land of the living. There has never been such an era of peace. Yet darkness hangs in the air: Grima's blood still lives in the world, and there are those who wish to use it to bring the fell dragon back.
1. Prologue: An Ill Presence

_**Grimleal's Wrath**_

_A Fire Emblem: Awakening Story_

_By TwiliRupee_

xIx

**Prologue**

**An Ill Presence**

xIx

Battle was met.

The Sorcerer stood atop a hill, looking down on his army of undead. They were battling the Shepherds, a group of Naga-worshiping do-gooders who had accompanied the one who had slayed Grima three years ago. The Sorcerer smirked. The Grima-slayer had died with the fell dragon, a just reward in the Gimleal's mind. Since the day Grima had died, the Sorcerer had been making life harder on Ylisse's leaders, attacking towns, causing mayhem, and generally wasting their time.

But enough of that. He focused back on the battle, and noted that Ylisse's Exalt and his wife were among the Shepherds. The Sorcerer mentally directed his strongest Risen – two of the roughest looking berserkers the Sorcerer had ever seen – toward the Exalt's position. Hopefully they would take down the meddling son of Naga, or, at the very least, cause massive damage. He gave the order to the rest of the Risen to push harder and split the Ylissean line.

He was so focused on this that he didn't notice the figure appear among the trees on the opposite hill and join the Shepherds. It was a few minutes later when he was alerted to the presence of the new comer by a huge and deadly bolt of thunder magic that split the air. The Risen chief that had been attacking the Exalt was felled in that single bolt, the other having been killed moments earlier by the Ylissean queen.

The Sorcerer scrambled to find the source of the devastating magic, and zeroed in on the newcomer, who was helping the Exalt to his feet. It was the Grima-slayer, returned from the dead. The Grimleal growled out a frustrated expletive and left the remaining Risen to fend for themselves. There was no way any of them would survive with Ylisse's famous tactician on the battlefield. Instead, he tried to figure out a way to take revenge on the Grima-slayer. He knew the man had a wife and two daughters…but they were well guarded, and the wife and older child were far from novice warriors. He studied the Shepherd ranks. Perhaps there was one among them…

A young woman near the back caught his eye. This was the one who had been giving out orders to her companions. She was the Grima-slayer's daughter. He moved along the hill, studying the young woman, trying to recall the details about her. She was a time traveler, one of the thirteen that had come from the future in which Grima was thriving. An idea was slowly forming in his mind. Could this young woman carry Grima's blood, just as the Grima-slayer once did? Could he take her and make her one of them, or better yet, possibly bring forth her heritage of the fell dragon? She wouldn't be easy to capture, but figured there was a way.

The idea was a savory one. He would have to watch her, gain her weaknesses and strengths. He would also bring it up with his fellow Grimleal.

And who knew? If the woman was a failure, he could always go for her younger self…

A ragged cheer rose from the valley. The Shepherds had won, and everyone was crowding around the Grima-slayer, greeting him as if he was a hero. The Sorcerer watched, sneering. What fools! "Have your last hurrah," he said in a low voice. "You won't be cheering when I'm through with you and your precious halidom!"

After a muttered spell, the Sorcerer transported from the scene in a shower of magic.

* * *

_Author's note: This is, hopefully, the beginning of a multi-chapter Fire Emblem story...just as a warning, though, some of the events I refer to I have written about in my other Fire Emblem fanfic, FE Outtakes. They're not necessary for this story, so you don't have to read them (though you should if you haven't). The Avatar for this story is my lovely Nykolai, the clumsy, impulsive idiot (his wife's words) who decided to pull an Emmeryn and save everyone._

_Updates will be on a I-finish-the-chapter-and-post-it-right-away basis. Well, not right away but you know what I mean._

_I hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

_Published 11/6/2013, edited 11/8/2013_


	2. One: Conflict's Beginnings

xIx

**One  
Conflict's Beginnings**

xIx

"Magic is a skill. Some call it an art." Nykolai's voice was soft and gentle, but he spoke with a conviction, enrapturing the six-year-old that made up his audience. The two stood in the training yard in the Ylisstol Palace's courtyard, which was empty save for them.

At the child's nod of understanding, Nykolai continued, facing the training dummy several yards away. "You must focus your mind on your magic, drawing from the inner power. Many mages use a quick chant to draw the power up. Only when you've grabbed hold of it can you then focus on your adversary."

"Adver…what?"

"Adversary." Nykolai turned his attention back to the child. "Your enemy, opponent. The person you're fighting."

"Oh. Uncle Ricken doesn't use a chant."

"That's because he's really good at it."

"Better than you or Mommy?"

"Yes. _Much_ better."

The child nodded and looked ready to continue learning, her questions over for the moment. Nykolai smiled and continued his lesson. "Once you've focused on your opponent, you can release the power you gathered and, presto! Magic!" He waved his arms for emphasis.

The girl giggled. "Show me?"

Nykolai grinned and took a breath, centering himself. He quickly chanted the words to a simple wind spell, and finished with a single word. "_Wind_!" From his hand, outstretched toward the training dummy, came a small burst of wind, shooting across the gap between him and the target, which rattled ferociously.

The girl clapped. "Can I try, Daddy?"

"Sure." Nykolai knelt down next to his daughter. "Take a nice, deep breath and let it out slowly." Mor nodded and did as she was told. "Now, repeat after me, and try to focus on the magic of the words and the skill, the power within your own reach." Mor nodded again. Nykolai began speaking the words slowly, broken into segments to make it easier for his daughter to repeat. "Now finish it off."

"_Wind_!" A small gust sped from the little girl's outstretched hand, hitting the base of the training dummy. "I did it!" she exclaimed.

"You did! Good job, Mor!"

The girl laughed. "Can I try again?"

"Go right ahead. Do you need the chant again?"

Mor nodded and they began practicing. After four or five repetitions, Mor had managed to get the majority of the chant memorized. By the tenth, she had the whole spell down. Her aim, however was still a little low. "Aim a little higher, Mor. Right where the chest would be if the training dummy were a real person."

Mor nodded and tried again. Nykolai sat back on the grass, watching his daughter practice. He had seen her grow from a toddler into the smart child she was today. She showed all the signs of becoming as great as her older self, Morgan. He only wished he could have been there for her from the day she was born. But he had done something stupid, according to his wife, Lucina.

He had sacrificed himself to kill Grima, just days before Lucina found out she was two months with child. The decision had torn at his heart, but he knew he had done the right thing in the end: Grima was dead for good. And because of that, he was trying to get over his regret, and had been since he returned four years ago.

"Nyk!"

Nykolai turned and saw Lucina walking toward him and Mor. Nykolai grinned and stood. Mor bounced happily in place. "Mommy! Mommy, I can do magic! Wanna see?"

Lucina stopped next to her husband. "Sure, sweetie," she replied with a grin.

Mor focused on the training dummy, recited the chant, and sent a whirl of wind across the ground.

"Well done!" Lucina praised. "You're a natural, like your sister." Mor beamed with the praise. "Keep practicing, okay? I need to talk with your father for a few moments." Mor nodded and continued. Lucina and Nykolai moved a short distance away.

"How are you feeling, Luce?" Nykolai asked before she could say anything.

Lucina made a face. "Better."

"Did you eat?"

Lucina rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Yes, Nyk, I did. Don't worry, I have gone through this before." She looked pointedly at Mor.

Nykolai nodded, following her gaze to their daughter, who was still practicing, getting slowly better and better. Nykolai turned back to his wife, one hand resting on her stomach. "And this time, I'll be here."

"You better be. Let's not have Mor's situation repeat." She sighed and shook her head, changing the subject. "The Shepherds are back."

"Oh, good. Any casualties?"

"Father broke his arm, and Inigo got hit on the head pretty bad. Inigo's resting, and Father's arm is pretty much healed, thanks to Maribelle."

Nykolai sighed, running a hand through his shaggy mauve-colored hair. Through his four years of return, the number of Risen attacks had not diminished since the undead monsters first appeared in Ylisse nine years ago, following Lucina from the future. Nykolai, Morgan, and a few other Shepherds tried to find the source, but they always came up at a dead end. Instead Lucina's father, Chrom, kept a small standing army to deal with the pests in addition to the Shepherds who were still actively defending their country.

It had gotten so bad that the active Shepherds were split into two groups, each taking turns to deal with each attack they could. Having only a limited number of tacticians, Morgan and Nykolai were taking turns going out. Lucina, too, hadn't gone out with her father's group, but she was a special case. She was with child once more, and Nykolai had begged her to rest, eventually getting her to listen.

"Father has called a meeting to discuss the situation; he wants us there."

"When?"

"As soon as possible."

Nykolai sighed again. "Okay. Give me a minute." Nykolai moved over to Mor. "Alright, that's enough practice for now."

"Aw, Daddy!"

"Maybe we'll come back out later. And we'll definitely practice tomorrow. Okay?"

Mor sighed but nodded. "Promise?"

"Promise. Now, run along. Maybe you can play with Lucy."

Mor ran off, and Nyk turned to Lucina. "Shall we?" he asked. Lucina nodded and they walked off.

* * *

The meeting room was large and brightly lit, with one wall overlooking the gardens of the palace. A large oval table had been set up, chairs circling it. The majority of the table was already occupied by members of the small royal council and several high ranking Shepherds. Chrom was seated at the head of the table, his left arm in a sling. Sumia sat to his right, and Lissa and Ricken sat on her other side. Frederick sat next to Chrom, and Maribelle next to the great knight. Cordelia stood in one of the corners of the room, leaning on her lance, and Gaius lounged in the opposite corner, a lollipop in his mouth. The former thief gave a jaunty salute to Nykolai and Lucina as they walked in, taking their seats next to Ricken.

"Wow, Chrom, that looks painful," Nykolai commented.

"It was. Woe to any who run into a mad wyvern in pain," Chrom replied, rubbing his arm. He glanced around the room and, seeing that everyone was present, cleared his throat. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" he said. The room quieted down instantly. "As you know, Ylisse is being plagued by countless Risen hordes. For almost ten years we've dealt with this plague, and it's only getting worse. What military means we have to rid the land of these creatures, including the Shepherds, aren't doing enough to halt this. We need to stop this now before more innocent lives are lost."

"Can't we find the source?" Gaius piped up from his corner. Because he was sitting on the floor – he wasn't really there for the meeting after all – it sounded like his voice was coming from thin air. Realizing this, Gaius stood. "I mean, we've tried the Outrealms – which Anna claims are secure – and surely by this pint we've killed all the Risen summoned by Grima…"

"Perhaps Plegia has something to with it," one of the councilmen stated as Gaius took his seat on the floor again.

"We can't make accusations like that," Chrom replied. "Relations with Plegia are delicate enough as it is."

The councilman shrugged. "Only a suggestion, milord."

"Sure, we could try to find the source, but we need help," Lissa said, twirling her hair on one finger. Her expression showed she was completely bored with the meeting.

"Yeah," Nykolai added, "help from places like Regna Ferox, Rosanne, Chon'sin…even Plegia…"

"Yes, but will Arata be willing to work with us?" Frederick asked, referring to the Plegian king who succeeded Nykolai's Grimleal father Validar after Grima had been defeated.

"We can try," Nykolai replied. "He is, from what I heard, sympathetic to those who worship Naga. Maybe he can help us."

Ricken muttered something about flying pigs, causing Lissa to stifle a laugh. Lucina, sitting next to Ricken, jabbed him gently in the ribs, but she was hiding a smirk as well.

Chrom, oblivious to the three, sighed. "Very well. We'll send an emissary to Plegia, as well as to Ferox and the continent of Valm."

"I'll go to Valm, my lord," Cordelia spoke up. "My knights and I can make the journey across the ocean."

"She's right," Sumia said. "Pegasi have a lot of endurance if they fly at a steady pace."

Cordelia nodded. "Sumia's right. We may have to switch mounts mid-journey, but I know we'll make it."

"Good." Chrom rubbed his broken arm again, glancing about the room.

"I will go to Ferox." The general of Ylisse's army spoke up.

"Thank you."

The general nodded and the room fell into silence again. Nykolai glanced around, ignoring the sigh of boredom coming from Lissa. "If there's nothing else," she began.

There was a loud and urgent knock on the door to the meeting room, and Chrom called for whoever it was to enter. A ragged messenger opened the door. "Milord. I'm sorry to interrupt. The Risen are attacking a town just north of here."

* * *

_Author's note: thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! I know I had a good time writing it._

* * *

_Published 11/9/2013_


	3. Two: The Sorcerer

xIx

**Two  
The Sorcerer**

xIx

The meeting room fell into dead silence as the people took in the words of the messenger. It was only punctuated by Chrom slamming his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. "Is this someone's idea of a sick joke?!" the Exalt demanded. Sumia, sensing her husband's exhaustion and irritation, rested a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him.

"N-no, milord." The messenger glanced about the room, which fell into uncomfortable silence once more.

"How far away is the town?" Nykolai asked after a moment.

"Half an hour's hard ride to the north, sir."

Nykolai nodded. "I'll go help them out." He stood, as did Lucina.

"I'll go as well," she said.

Nykolai turned to her. "Luce…"

"Don't you tell me I can't." She pointed a finger at him, her face serious. When he didn't reply, she continued, making her way toward the door. "I'll meet you at the stables."

Nykolai and Chrom sighed in unison as soon as Lucina had left the room. "Please make sure my daughter doesn't get herself killed, Nykolai," Chrom said.

"Believe me, I don't want her to go either." He glanced around. "Anyone else want to join us?"

After a moment, Ricken, Frederick, and Gaius all volunteered. Gaius ran off to alert other Shepherds, escaping the wrath of his wife, Maribelle, for going on two consecutive missions. Maribelle, however, excused herself and followed her husband. The meeting was quickly adjourned after she left.

Chrom stood, giving a grim nod to his long-time friend. "You and Lucina stay safe out there."

Nykolai nodded. "We will. And we'll stay out of the path of mad wyverns."

"That would be wise."

Nykolai sighed and excused himself, aiming to bid his daughters farewell before leaving. He ran into Morgan, who was bringing two mugs of tea up to her and Inigo's room. She directed her father to the children's playroom, to which she had not five minutes ago directed her mother. "Auntie Emm's there too," she added, seeing Frederick leave the meeting room behind Nykolai.

The young tactician wished her father good luck and safety before scurrying off to her room.

Nykolai and Frederick, seeing as they were heading to the same location, moved off down the hall.

* * *

Half an hour earlier, Mor entered the room that was solely dedicated to the children for play. It was one of her favorite places, aside from her own room down the hall. There were shelves of books of all kinds, and a corner of cushions in which the children could enjoy hearing or reading a story. There was chest of toys opposite the reading corner, and, covering the stone floor, was a soft rug.

The best part, in Mor's opinion, was that there was always someone in the room to play with, be it her sister, cousins, or friends. Today was no exception. Her cousins Cynthie and Little Owain (though everyone called him Owain when his brother wasn't around, or the Little Guy, if he was) were play fighting with soft swords. Six-year-old Owain was currently winning, calling out silly move names as four-year-old Cynthie tried to keep up. Brady was watching, encouraging his friends. The seven-year-old, however, neglected to fight. Lucy sat in the reading corner with her Aunt Emmeryn, reading a book aloud to her. Mor excitedly hurried over to Emmeryn. "Guess what I did, Auntie Emm, guess what!"

"Mor, I was reading," Lucy complained.

"Yeah, but I wanna tell Auntie Emm what I did."

Lucy rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. She knew when Mor was too excited to be patient.

"…What…did you do?" Emmeryn's voice was soft and had a slight waver. She was always a bit slow to speak, and didn't try to intervene in the children's chatter often.

"I used magic!" Mor threw her hands in the air excitedly. "Daddy taught me!"

"Magic is stupid," Owain said. "Swords are awesome!" He raised his play sword, striking a pose. Mor scowled at him.

"'Stupid' is a mean word," Cynthie said. She prodded her cousin in the stomach with her own play sword causing him to double over in order to protect his middle.

"Besides," Brady said. "Your mom and dad both use magic, Owain."

"Swords are pretty cool," Lucy interrupted, shutting her book. "One day I'll be using my daddy's Falchion. But, magic is cool, too."

Emmeryn took this opportunity to speak up. "Everyone has…their own…p-preference."

"What's that?" Cynthie asked.

"Preference?" Lucy clarified. Her sister nodded and the seven-year-old continued. "It's what you like. Mor's preference is magic, Owain's is swords. Mor's sister likes both swords and magic. Right?" She turned to Emmeryn to make sure she was correct. The woman nodded.

"'Sides, the Justice Cabal needs a magic user," Mor added, referring to their small group of freedom fighters. It was inspired by the group Owain's brother had formed with Lucy and Cynthie's other sister, Cynthia, and Morgan.

This settled the argument quickly, and Cynthie and Owain returned to their play fighting. Lucy opened her book once more, and began to read again. Mor settled down next to her, only half listening.

It was an odd group here in the playroom. That Mor knew. The older she got, the more she understood the complications of her family. Her father had explained once, during a war just before she was born, a group of people travelled through time, her mother being one of them. If Mor thought about it, Lucy was a younger version of her mother, and Cynthie was her aunt. But that was too complicated. Lucy was Mor's best friend, and was like a doting older sister. They had grown up together and were the closest in age among the girls in the palace. She shook her head and listened to Lucy reading the story.

Sometime later, Mor heard footsteps coming down the hall. Her mother entered the room. The children greeted her and she moved over to her daughter. "Mor, something's come up. Your father and I have to leave for a day or two."

"Why? Are there more monsters?"

Lucina nodded. "Yes. Listen to your sister. She and Inigo in charge of you while we're gone."

Mor nodded and hugged her mother, fighting back the tears in her eyes. She didn't want her parents to leave. The last time her father had left to fight the monsters, he had come back badly hurt. "Do you have to go?" she asked.

"Your mother doesn't." Lucina and Mor parted, looking toward the doorway to see Nykolai and Frederick. Emmeryn stood at the sight of her husband and walked over to his side. "But she's made up her mind, and she won't change it," Nykolai continued.

"It's my duty to help Ylisse," Lucina replied.

"And to be a good mother."

"As is yours to be a good father, yet you insist on going on this campaign. Your argument is invalid."

Nykolai sighed. "Have you been spending time with Laurent?"

"With Miriel, but that's beside the point."

By this point, Frederick and Emmeryn were laughing quietly as the two argued. The children, as well, were grinning. Nykolai glanced around and sighed. "See, Mor? When your mother makes up her mind, there's no changing it. Stubborn as a mule." Lucina rolled her eyes. He kneeled down next to Mor and hugged her. "Don't worry. We'll be back before you know it."

Mor nodded and her father stood. Frederick and Emmeryn shared a quick goodbye kiss before the great knight turned to Lucina and Nykolai. "Shall we?" Lucina and Nykolai nodded. They followed Frederick out of the room, but not before sending Mor one last smile. Mor sighed and sat down, rubbing her face with her sleeve, as if that would stop the tears. Lucy, sensing her sadness, hugged her.

"It's okay, Mor. They'll be back soon."

Mor sighed. "I know." She sighed sadly. "I'm gonna find my sister." She stood and hurried out of the room.

* * *

The royal stables were located near the palace of Ylisstol itself. They were large, holding not only horses, but Pegasi as well. Sumia was fond of raising the winged creatures, allowing for a larger stables.

Lucina entered one of the stalls, only to be greeted by a slick black Pegasus. "Hey, Archimedes," she greeted. "Been a long time, hasn't it?"

The winged horse nodded his head and Lucina set to work saddling and bridling him. She then buckled Parallel Falchion and a spare silver lance to the saddle before making sure her Rexcalibur and Thoron tomes were securing in another saddle bag. She led her Pegasus out of the stall and into the stable yard, where Nykolai was making the final adjustments on his own mount's saddle.

He turned at the sound of hoof beats. "Luce. Are you sure you want to do this? What about the baby?"

"I can still fight," Lucina replied, checking the stirrups on Archimedes' saddle. "We still have six months before this kid comes."

"I know."

She turned to him. "Listen, if it makes you feel any better, we can work together, and you can take the lead on the fighting."

Nykolai sighed. "Fine."

By this point, the rest of the Shepherds joining them on the campaign had arrived at the stable yard and were mounting up. Nykolai and Lucina followed their lead. Nykolai turned his horse. "Everyone ready?"

There was a chorus of assents. Lucina and Cynthia encouraged their mounts to take off. The group of Shepherds moved off.

It took them half an hour to reach the town, and when they did, they knew it was too late. Smoke rose from demolished buildings, and there was no sign of people or Risen. They stopped a few yards away from the edge of what used to be the town. Lucina landed next to her husband. "Gods, we're too late!"

"There may be survivors, Luce. We need to check to make sure there aren't any more Risen." Nykolai turned his horse, once more addressing the Shepherds. "Search for survivors, but be on your guard." He quickly paired them up and set them their sections of the small town to search. He and Lucina moved off through the charred ruins to their own search area, and began combing the buildings for survivors.

After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, Nykolai's foot caught on a board. He fell, catching himself with his hands. "Are you alright?" Lucina asked, helping him back to his feet. "Sometimes I wonder if you're worse than my mother."

Nykolai gave a wry grin, brushing the soot off his hands. "In my defense, Sumia would have tripped at least five times by now. I may be a klutz, but I'm not that bad."

Lucina grinned. "Are you sure? You've had some spectacular falls, like that time in Regna Ferox…"

Nykolai covered his face. "Please, don't remind me." He lowered his hands and glanced around, focusing back on the task at hand. He and Lucina moved forward a few steps, but something caught Nykolai's eye. He stopped once more, peering through the smoke.

"What is it?" his wife asked.

"I thought I saw something." He readied his tome. Lucina half-drew Falchion from its sheath. The smoke cleared slightly, and the silhouette of a person was visible. "Hello?" Nykolai called. The figure moved.

"I don't like this…" Lucina muttered. She muttered a quick and simple wind spell to clear the smoke, revealing a sorcerer.

The man stiffened, readying his own dark magic tome. "You!"

"Do we know you?" Nykolai asked warily. Lucina drew her sword fully.

"No," the Sorcerer replied. "But I know of you." He took a few steps forward. He was wearing the usual sorcerer's garb: cloaked and hooded so his face was hidden from view. The sides of the robe were designed with the unmistakable mark of Grima's eyes. "You are Lucina, the time-travelling princess of Ylisse; and Nykolai, Ylisse's infamous tactician who bested even death, the murderer of Lord Grima."

"So you're a pointless Grimleal," Lucina replied sharply and mockingly.

The Sorcerer's voice was nonchalant as he spoke next. "I suppose so…for now at least. But first, you both must be eliminated." The Sorcerer raised his hand. "_Grima's Truth_!" The dark spell lanced out, aiming at Lucina. Nykolai jumped in front of her, throwing up a magic barrier just in time. He fired back his own Thoron spell, but it was deflected, hitting instead the side of a still-standing building.

The weak structure collapsed, sending ash, dust, and debris in between the Sorcerer and the two Shepherds. The Sorcerer's laughter echoed through the air as the dust and ash settled. "You think you can beat me, murder of Grima? Ha! Do your worst, if you can!"

Nykolai and Lucina charged the Sorcerer, who laughed tauntingly and disappeared in a flash of light. His voice taunted them and Nykolai spotted him perched on a rickety building. "This won't be the last you'll see of me!" He fired more magic, this time at the building he stood on and transported himself away from the scene, just in time for the building to collapse in the direction of Lucina and Nykolai.

"Look out!" Nykolai grabbed his wife, pulling her to relative safety, before yanking her to the ground and shielding her from the falling debris.

The dust settled. "Nyk!" Lucina pulled herself from her husband's embrace.

"Are you hurt?" Nykolai gasped. He was scratched and bloodied, dust and ash coating his clothes and face.

"I am fine, but you need to see a healer!" She helped push of the charred boards of the building off him. He gasped in pain, clutching at his leg.

"What…what about looking for survivors? We've still got part of our section to search."

"In your state? It would be suicide. I will return to search once you're safe."

Nykolai looked up at her like she was crazy. "Like hell you will, Luce." Lucina froze, and Nykolai elaborated, pushing himself into a sitting position. "You think I'd let my _pregnant_ wife march around a burnt town filled with structurally unsound buildings? I promised your father to keep your safe. I will not let you go by yourself."

Lucina sighed. "Very well. But someone has to search for the survivors."

"We can get help once we join up with the others."

Lucina nodded and helped him up. He gasped in pain when he tried to put weight on his left leg. Blood soaked the fabric of his breeches. "Lean on me, Nyk." She pulled his arm over her shoulders and wrapped her arm around his torso, helping balance him. Together, they hobbled back toward the rendezvous area outside the town. They were met on the edge of town by Frederick.

"Milady! I saw the buildings collapse but I wasn't able to come to your aid right away!" He moved to Nykolai's other side, aiding Lucina in helping him to the rendezvous.

"It is fine, Frederick," Lucina replied.

Ricken was busy making sure that the small handful of survivors were uninjured when Nykolai, Lucina and Frederick arrived. Knowing the villagers would be fine, Ricken hurried over, his mend staff at the ready. "What happened?" he asked as Lucina helped her husband sit

Lucina quickly explained their encounter with the Sorcerer and the collapsing buildings, ignoring Nykolai's gasps of pain as Ricken set to work. She also mentioned that she and Nykolai hadn't been able to finish their search. Cynthia and Sully immediately volunteered.

When she finished and the two Shepherds had gone off to find more survivors, one of the villagers spoke up. He was the son of the village headman, a young man only in his late teens or early twenties. "You said you were attacked by a sorcerer, milady?"

"Yes, why?"

"There was a sorcerer leading the Risen attacking us. He and a few others who were most certainly not monsters – at least not in the literal sense of the word." He paused, swallowing hard against the emptions building up inside. "They set the town ablaze while their monsters attacked every person they could."

"How did you survive?" Nykolai asked, his voice tight with pain despite the fact that Ricken had finished healing his wound as best he could.

"My father dug an underground safe place just next to our house a few years ago when he heard of the attacks. It was big enough to fit the majority of the village and stocked with dry goods for at least a month should the bunker be filled. But we had no warning. Only those of us here," he paused to gesture to the five or so adults and ten children who had survived the attack, "were able to make it in time to the bunker."

They sat in silence when the villager finished. Frederick suggested after a few minutes that it would be unwise to travel with the evening closing in and so many unarmed villagers in need of protection. He and the headman's son went back to the bunker to get rations for the villagers. They would camp that night at their location, then return with the survivors to Ylisstol.

* * *

_Author's note: *bangs head on keyboard* This took me forever to write for some reason. I didn't have a writer's block, but it just took me a while. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed!_

* * *

_Published 11/18/2013_

_Edit 11/20/2013: I realized an idiot mistake. I had Cordelia accompany Nyk's group, when she was supposed to be on her way to the continent of Valm. Fixed that mistake._


	4. Three: Gathering

xIx

**Three  
Gathering**

xIx

_They stood face-to-face, identical in every way save for the sadistic grin and red eyes of one. "You think you have won?" the red-eyed one asked sneeringly. "I shall never die!"_

_Nykolai tried to back away, to tear his gaze from the monster in front of him, but he was frozen in place. His doppelganger continued. "We are one and the same. Join with me! Resist, and you will suffer the consequences!"_

_From the darkness that surrounded the pair, voices shrieked. He heard Chrom shouting his name, Lucina calling him desperately, the two Morgans screamed for him, an infant wailed in the distance. Visions of his family and friends lying dead on the ground passed his eyes._

_"Join me!" Grima howled. "Save them from their suffering!"_

_Nykolai found himself on the fell dragon's back, all around him the Shepherds were bleeding, dying. "You'll kill them anyway!" he shouted, finally finding his voice._

_"Of course I would!" Grima laughed and raised his hands, sending another spell towards the Shepherds._

"Nooo!" Nykolai sat up, a cold sweat beading his forehead. Around him, other Shepherds woke, startled by his cry.

"What is it?" Stahl asked sleepily, his perpetual bedhead even messier than usual.

Nykolai glanced around. The Shepherds and the villagers were gathered around three campfires, having slept in the open air that night. Frederick was near the edge of camp, though he had paused in his patrolling when Nykolai woke. "Nothing. Just…just a dream." He stood, momentarily wondering where Lucina was; he had fallen asleep with her wrapped in his arms, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Sorry I woke you," he told his fellow Shepherds. He moved off a ways, rubbing his face and trying to forget the dream. The wooded area they had camped in by the town was a perfect place to clear his head, and for a few minutes, he wandered with a limp, keeping close enough to the camp, but far enough that he wouldn't wake any who he hadn't already woken.

He came upon Lucina, who was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree. Her eyes, which had been closed, opened at the sound of his footsteps. "What are you doing here?" Nykolai asked. Lucina made a face, and that was all he needed to guess the reason. "Morning sickness?"

"Yes." She moved over so Nykolai could join her on the ground. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Six more months. You can survive that, right?"

"Yes." She paused. "Why are you awake, Nyk? It is still early. Is it your leg?"

"No. My leg hurts, but it didn't wake me up." He sighed. "Nightmare."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'd rather not talk about it…though that sorcerer got to me more than I'd like. He's Grimleal. He must really believe that Grima will return."

"But he can't. Grima's dead. You made sure of it, even if…" Lucina trailed off, tears filling her eyes. It was still hard for her to talk about his sacrifice without tearing up.

Nykolai nodded. "I know." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close for a kiss. She kissed him back and they sat in quiet for a few minutes. "Come on," Nykolai said eventually. "Let's see if everyone is awake." He stood and helped Lucina to her feet.

"You're limping pretty badly," Lucina noted as they set off

"Yeah. I'll be fine though."

She sighed. "I wish you weren't such an idiot sometimes. I know you want to watch out for me, but you can't be sacrificing yourself all the time. There is a reason why Mor didn't want us leaving."

"I know she's worried about us, Luce, but-"

"She thinks we won't come back or, if we do, we'll be seriously injured."

"How do you know this?"

"Aunt Emmeryn overheard her talking to Lucy. She let me know the other day. Apparently Mor brought up your first idiotic sacrifice." Lucina's voice wavered slightly as she spoke.

"You know, you don't make me feel any less guilty about my decision if you tear up every time you talk about that."

"Good. You should feel guilty."

Nykolai sighed once more as they reached the camp. It looked like practically everyone was awake now. "Just don't hit me again….My face was swollen for three painful days."

"I won't hit you. Don't worry."

Nykolai grinned, changing the subject. "Now…let's see if we can get you to eat something."

* * *

"Tag! You're it, sis!"

Morgan pouted playfully and gave chase after her sister and the younger children. Chrom was also playing the game, and Morgan picked him as her next target. He dodged out of the way at the last second. "Dang it, Grandfather!"

Chrom laughed. Inigo, at the side of the castle courtyard, called out to his wife. "Come on, Morgan, where are those tactics of yours?"

"I'll tactic you!"

"Try making more sense while you're at it!"

Morgan sighed. She had been it five times now, and normally, she was able to evade getting tagged. Smirking briefly as she got an idea, she sat down on the ground, looking as if she was giving up. She glanced at the afternoon sky and wondered how her parents were as she waited for her ruse to work.

"It's just a game, Morgan," Chrom said. "Don't be such a spoilsport." The other children moved closer, just enough for Morgan to leap into action, tagging Cynthie before leaping up and hurrying away. Cynthie protested, but continued playing.

"That was mean," Inigo said as Morgan came closer.

"That was strategy." Movement caught her eye and she turned to the entrance to garden, only to see a familiar figure in blue. "Mother!" she called at the same time Mor noticed. The two Morgans hurried to greet Lucina. The oldest princess of Ylisse hugged her daughters.

"Where's Daddy?" Mor asked, worry lacing her voice.

"He's fine," Lucina replied. "Don't worry." She glanced up as Chrom approached. "Father."

"How did it go?" Chrom asked, hugging his daughter.

Lucina shook her head. "We didn't make it in time." She quickly explained what had happened to the town. "The survivors want to talk to you."

Chrom nodded. "Very well. Where are they?"

Lucina motioned for him to follow. Morgan tagged along as well – she was, after all, one of Ylisse's tacticians. Mor, however, returned to playing with the other children in the courtyard under Inigo's watchful eye.

The three walked in silence until they reached the royal stable yard, where some of the Shepherds were still taking care of their horses after the journey. A small group of villagers stood out of the way, looking around at the scene with curiosity. Morgan saw her father talking with one of the villagers, leaning heavily on a lance and barely putting any weight on his left leg. She then noticed that everyone who had gone on the mission was lightly covered in soot. "What happened to Father?" Morgan asked.

"He was being an idiot again," Lucina explained with a wry smile.

Nykolai turned at the sound of her voice. "Excuse me, princess, for keeping my promise and saving your life," he teased. "I broke my leg pretty badly, Morgan, to answer your question, and there's only so much a staff can do to heal."

One of the villagers, finally getting over the fact that he was in the presence of the ruler of the halidom, stepped forward and bowed. "Your grace, thank you for coming to speak with us so quickly."

"Of course," Chrom replied. "My daughter filled me in on the situation. What can I do for you?"

As they spoke, Nykolai shifted on his feet, grimacing.

"I told you not to walk," Lucina reprimanded, noting his expression. "But did you listen?"

"I got your point, Luce. I shall never again doubt your wisdom."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Perhaps." He smirked at her, then turned to Morgan. "How were things here?"

Morgan shrugged. "Not bad, but you were only gone for a day. Big Owain and Severa showed up this morning, and that about as eventful as things got."

Lucina smiled at the thought of her cousin. Even before they had traveled back in time, Owain was a bright light and a skilled warrior.

They waited another ten minutes while Chrom discussed the aid for the villagers. Once they were done, Chrom turned to Nykolai and Lucina. "I sent out a message to every Shepherd in Ylisse and Ferox who isn't already here. We're meeting tonight in the garrison. Hopefully everyone will have arrived by then."

Nykolai grinned. He hadn't seen many of the non-active Shepherds in years, and a few he hadn't seen since the battle on Grima's back years ago. "Sounds like fun."

* * *

That evening, as the sun was setting, Nykoali, Lucina, Inigo, and the two Morgans arrived at the garrison, which was alive and boisterous. Young children ran among the crowd, chasing each other and laughing. Children from the future were greeting each other happily, and the original Shepherds were talking and laughing along with them. Mor, Inigo, and Morgan ran off happily to join their friends. Severa, already deep in conversation, waved toward Lucina, who, after a quick glance at her husband, moved off.

"Hello."

Nykolai jumped at the voice coming out of nowhere. He turned, looking around before spying Kellam. "Gods, Kellam, don't scare me like that."

"Sorry. I'm just surprised you can see me."

"How are things back home?" he asked, recalling that the knight had returned to the farm after the war.

"Good. We've had a few Risen attacks ourselves, but I've been training the boys of my village and we're a force to be-"

"Ah, Nykolai!" Gregor, totally oblivious to Kellam, marched right up to the grandmaster. "Gregor is happy to see you! He always know you would keep on with the living." The mercenary wrapped an arm around Nykolai's shoulders and started walking him away.

Nykolai gave Kellam an apologetic look as he was dragged off. "Good to see you, too, Gregor."

"Let us make with the drinking, yes?"

"Don't get too drunk," Nowi said as she hopped by the pair, stopping only to give her husband a quick kiss on the cheek. "Though Chrom's already rationed the alcohol. Serious stuff tonight."

Gregor frowned. "But-" The mercenary hurried off, eager to get his share of the drink before it was finished.

"I guess he hasn't had his ration yet," Nowi mused, then grinned. "How have you been?" she asked, giving Nykolai a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Good. And you?"

Nowi pulled away. "Life's been good. Gregor got himself in a mess, but I convinced him to travel with me, and everything's been good." She glanced around at the scene. "Feels like he good old days, huh?"

"If you mean the days when we were constantly fighting and fearing for our lives every day, then sure."

Nowi laughed. "Don't be such a party pooper." She waved at another Shepherd. "See you later!" The manakete bounded off, and Nykolai watched her with a laugh. He moved through the jovial Shepherds and saw Chrom sitting and watching the scene, a smile on his face.

"I thought this was supposed to be serious," Nykolai stated as he sat next to Chrom, rubbing his still sore leg.

"It is, but this is the first time in years the majority of us have been together like this." Chrom grinned even more at the sight of Emmeryn and Lissa, chatting with Owain and Severa and laughing. "It feels more like a family reunion instead of serious business." Nykolai nodded in agreement.

Finally, half an hour later, Chrom got everyone's attention as they were sitting down to eat. The room got quiet. "Before we eat," the Exalt began, "I wanted to thank you all for responding so quickly. There are a few of us still missing, but we'll keep them in mind." There was a chorus of assent. "I won't get into the serious business quite yet, but let us thank Naga that we are all here, alive and well, and for this wonderful food, courtesy of the palace kitchen staff. Enjoy."

The talking rose once more and Morgan glanced around before turning to Inigo. "Good to be back among the Shepherds, huh?"

Inigo swallowed a bite of food. "Yes. I haven't seen my parents though."

"It does take longer for a messenger to get to Ferox."

"True." They ate quietly, listening to the conversations around them. Brady was complaining that his mother was turning his younger self into a stiff, uninteresting noble, causing the younger Brady to protest. That ended up being Morgan's favorite conversation she had heard that evening.

There was much laughter and joy, and Morgan didn't want it to end. But once everyone had their fill, Chrom called everyone's attention once more. Morgan could see her grandfather looked reluctant to dampen the mood.

"The reason I haven called you all here tonight is more serious than a reunion, as you heard. We have fought so hard to help protect the halidom and its peace. Now it is being threatened to an extent we haven't seen since the wars with Plegia.

"I understand that many of you have seen enough of fighting. You've all begun to lead peaceful lives with your families. The last thing any of us want to do is to march to battle again. But it seems that is the case.

"I ask you, here and now, if you are willing to once more lend your talents to protecting Ylisse once more from the threats of the Risen. If you would rather not fight, I will understand."

There was a heartbeat of silence before Panne stood. "You have all become my family when I had none, and a Taguel is loyal to her warren. I will fight."

Donnel stood as well. "I'm with ya, too."

Henry, across the dining hall, laughed. "I'm in. Will there be blood?"

Other Shepherds stood, promising to fight. Soon, every adult present had stood. Nykolai, still by Chrom, grinned. "Well, that was easy."

"Be serious," his wife told him.

"I am."

Everyone settled down after that, though they were a bit more somber, save for the children, who were still jovially playing with one another.

Nykolai grinned, watching the scene of enthusiastic Shepherds. "I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again. It's good to be home."

* * *

_Author's note: Thanks, all, for your continued support. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next time, things are going to step up a pace..._

* * *

_Published 11/24/2013_


	5. Four: Taken

xIx**  
Four  
Taken  
**xIx

"_Wind_!" From Mor's outstretched hand came a burst of wind, hitting the training dummy precisely.

"You're a natural, Mor," Ricken said from his place beside the child. "You wanna know a secret that'll make you even better?"

Mor nodded and Ricken began to teach her. Nykolai watched from the side with Morgan. "It's no wonder you're so good at magic," Nykolai told his older daughter. "If you were at Mor's level when you were six."

"Yeah. If only I could remember."

"Don't push it. I still haven't remembered anything from before Chrom found me in that field. You might not remember anything either."

Morgan huffed and glanced around. It was a week since the gathering of the Shepherds. Most everyone was here at the garrison, and the majority were training. Nowi and Nah were in dragon form, wrestling, while the magic users were practicing their various spells once more. Kjelle and Kellam, being the only two of the knight class, were sparring with one another, and Chrom and Lucina were sparring with each other, and Nyk feared something would get broken soon.

"Why aren't you training?" Nykolai asked his daughter.

"Inigo and I sparred this morning."

"Ah."

"Yeah. We tired ourselves out." She glanced at her father. "I'm guessing you're waiting for Mother to wear herself out by sparring Grandfather so you'll be less likely to get as many bruises as usual?"

"More like making sure she doesn't hurt herself. Did she do this with Mor?"

"Yup." Father and daughter winced in unison as Chrom got a lucky hit on Lucina. Nykolai could tell that his wife was getting tired faster than usual. He was proven correct when she yielded almost immediately after getting knocked down for the third time. Chrom helped her to her feet, and she slowly made her way towards her husband.

"Don't give me that look," she said, accepting a waterskin from Nykolai.

"I feel sorry for that kid. You just got beat up and he or she had to take it as well."

Lucina shot him her classic glare. "I did the same while I carried Mor and she's perfectly fine."

Nykolai didn't reply, letting his wife win the argument for now. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head. They quietly watched Mor practicing magic. Morgan had gone off to spend time with Inigo and some of the other future children.

A bell rang out over Ylisstol. The Shepherds slowly froze as each heard the bell. They all knew what it meant: Ylisstol was in danger.

The bell stopped suddenly, and as one the Shepherds looked to Chrom and Nykolai, waiting to see what they should do. Nykolai glanced at Nowi, ready to tell her to scout out the situation, when a guard sprinted into the training grounds. "Milord!" he gasped. "Risen! They've infiltrated the city!"

That was all they needed to hear. "To arms, Shepherds! Rout the city of this filth!" This was a standard battle plan for the Shepherds. They immediately paired up and raced into the city to destroy the Risen threat. Nykolai and Lucina, however, hurried Mor towards the Shepherds' Garrison, in the hope that the child would be safe. Morgan and Inigo hesitated on the edge of the grounds.

There was a flash of light blocking Nykolai, Lucina, and Mor's path, and the Sorcerer materialized out of thin air. "Going somewhere?" the man demanded. Nykolai pushed Mor behind him, one hand sparking with the impending Thoron spell raised in defense. Lucina drew her sword. All around the training ground, more of the mysterious enemies appeared. Most of them were sorcerers, though there were several others. Each enemy bore the six eyes of Grima proudly somewhere on their battle gear. There were at least twenty of them.

They were surrounded, and had no way to get help.

"What do you want?" Nykolai demanded, glancing back only for a moment to see that Inigo and Morgan had been trapped as well.

He could see the Sorcerer's mouth twist into a smirk. "Did I not tell you, Grima-slayer, that I would not be a pointless Grimleal for much longer?"

"Grima is dead! You cannot hope to bring him back!" Nykolai argued.

"So you think." He leaped forward, launching a spell at his adversary. Nykolai moved back, firing his own Thoron spell. All around, the other Grimleal sprung onto action. Nykolai tried to get in a good shot at the Sorcerer, but he kept dodging, and other Grimleal were constantly coming at him. Everything screeched to a halt when Mor cried out.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Mor had been grabbed by the Sorcerer. Lucina, who had attempted to protect Mor, was collapsed on the ground, exhausted from her spar with Chrom and possibly injured. Over by the grounds' entrance, Inigo was in a similar situation, and Morgan was unconscious, also in the grasp of a Grimleal garbed in the thick armor of a general. Nykolai turned his attention to the Sorcerer and growled out an expletive that he hadn't used since he was fighting his father, Validar. "Oh, does this make you angry?" the Sorcerer asked. "Good."

"Let. Them. Go."

"Let me think…no!" The Sorcerer gave a spine-chilling laugh. He nodded at the Grimleal who had captured Morgan. The general nodded back. He, along with one of the other sorcerers, disappeared, taking Morgan with them before Nykolai could do anything. The grandmaster, furious, charged the Sorcerer.

Just as he reached out and grabbed ahold of the man's robe, the Sorcerer transported. There was a blinding light, and the sickening feeling of being compressed into a tiny ball, before everything returned to normal. Mor, Nykolai, and the Sorcerer fell to the sandy ground. The hot sun beat down on them and Nykolai scrambled to take in his surroundings. This was a desert, and obviously a meeting point for the Grimleal, as the general who had captured Morgan was a few feet away, the tactician lying at his feet.

The surroundings were familiar enough to Nykolai. This wasn't just any desert. This was Plegia.

It was all he was able to take in before the Sorcerer roughly tossed Mor aside and attacking Nykolai once more. The pair traded magic spells and even blows for a few moments before the Sorcerer grabbed Nykolai and transported once more. Again, there was the feeling of being compressed, and the setting changed from burning hot to blistering cold.

Startled, Nykolai scrambled to regain his balance, looking around for his enemy. He felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. He stumbled and received a blow to his stomach, which knocked the wind clear out of his lungs. He collapsed in the snow, gasping for breath.

The Sorcerer looked down on the fallen grandmaster. "The famous tactician of Ylisse? Ha! I think not!" In a flash, the man was gone.

Nykolai lay there, gaping like a fish for several moments more before his lungs began to function again. He gave a shuddering gasp, fighting the blackness around his vision and the waves of dizziness and pain crashing down on his head. He barely heard the fast-paced sound of boots crunching on the snow.

A familiar figure loomed over him. "Nykolai?"

"Lon'qu." Nykolai tried to push himself up, and the swordmaster grabbed his arm, hauling the unsteady man to his feet.

"I was patrolling nearby when I saw a flash of light. What happened?"

Nykolai, gasping, told his tale as his friend helped him back towards…where ever it was. When he had finished, he asked about their location. "Just outside Castle Ferox," Lon'qu replied.

Nykolai nodded. "That was a dumb move on the Sorcerer's part."

"Indeed."

They walked for a few more moments before the grandmaster spoke again. "I need to talk to Flavia and Basilio. And I want to send a letter to Luce so she knows I'm okay."

Lon'qu nodded with understanding.

* * *

Lucina and Inigo had recovered somewhat by the time the Shepherds returned to the training grounds. Chrom, seeing the two on the ground completely despondent, knew immediately that something happened. He ran to their side, getting the story instantly.

Life, the Exalt decided, was just throwing everything it had at his daughter. From fighting for her life on her original time to losing her husband for three years. Even after Nykolai had returned, there had been the constant threat of the Risen. And now there was this. Would Lucina ever get a break?

Chrom sighed. "We managed to capture one of the human enemies. He told us everything he knew."

Lucina looked up, curiosity showing in her eyes despite the tears.

"He's a low-ranking Grimleal, but confirmed that the order didn't die like we had thought it did seven years ago. They're still hiding out in Plegia, but he's never been to their main base, only an outpost. Their leader, a sorcerer who goes by the name Ryker, has some plan, but our Grimleal doesn't know the details, again because of his low rank."

"What are we going to do?" Inigo sniffled.

"Find the Grimleal and get our Morgans back. First things first, though. We have to make sure Arata will let us into Plegia without him thinking we're there to invade or cause war."

Lucina nodded, sobering slightly. She was determined to find her family, and she wouldn't rest until she did so.

* * *

Morgan groaned, raising one hand to her face to shield herself from the light beating down on her face. "Get up." The voice was harsh, and she frowned. What was going on? She felt someone nudging her with the toe of a boot. "Get up now."

Morgan opened her eyes to see a sorcerer towering over her. Mor crouched by her side, fear clear on the child's face.

The Sorcerer prodded her again and repeated his demand, this time tacking on an unpleasant name. Morgan, sensing the man's impatience, attempted to sit up. Two rough hands grabbed her arms, pulling her up. Mor stood as well, clinging to her sister's side. Her mind felt fuzzy as she tried to figure out the situation. "You, my dear, and your younger self are going to be my esteemed guests. How nice." The Sorcerer sounded like a content cat, purring over the mouse it had just killed.

"And if we refuse?"

"Let's go along the lines of: you'll never see your family again." He glanced around at the assembled Grimleal. "We make for the Table. It's time our plan was set in motion." The group moved off, their hostages in tow.

Morgan began to think. She and Mor had to escape. There had to be a way to get back to Ylisse. But above all, she had to keep Mor safe. She just had to.

* * *

_Published 12/1/2013_


	6. Five: Help

xIx

**Five**

**Help**

xIx

Mor didn't know how long they were walking. All she knew was that the people around her were mean, her sister was hurt, and her parents were a long way away. She whimpered slightly and clung to Morgan's side when one of the men snarled at her to be quiet.

Several more minutes passed, and she began to get tired. Walking through all this sand was hard! She glanced at her sister. Her eyes were narrowed in a way that showed she was thinking, though to an outsider it looked like she was squinting against the sun. Mor sighed, and returned her gaze forward. There was a towering building far off in the distance. That must be their destination.

Suddenly, Morgan's foot shot out in front of Mor's, causing the little girl to trip. She looked up as the meanies grumbled at her to get up. Morgan dropped to her knees. "On three," she breathed, showing three fingers, "cover your ears and run. That way." She nodded her head subtly to Mor's left. The girl nodded back. Both stood and continued to tromp on. This time, Mor kept glancing at her sister's hand, waiting for the count to begin.

One.

Mor tensed, and heard a quiet murmuring from her sister. Was she going to try a spell?

Two.

Morgan went quiet, and Mor took a deep breath.

Three.

Instantly, Mor's hands went to her ears as her sister shouted. "_Valflame!_" The very air seemed to shake with the force of the explosive fire spell, and Mor, seeing an opening to her left, ran as fast a she could, Morgan on her heels. The mean men yelled and gave chase.

Seconds felt like minutes. Mor, gasping for breath, heard her sister cry out. The girl stopped and turned to see her sister sprawled on the ground, an arrow in her shoulder. The six-year-old ran back, trying to tug Morgan up. "Go, Mor!" the tactician shouted. Mor hesitated.

"No, sis!"

"_Go, Morgana! Don't look back!_"

Mor's eyes widened. No one ever used her full name unless she was in trouble, or if her father was trying to get her in bed. There was no way she wouldn't listen now. She blinked back tears and started running again towards the town in the distance. Morgan watched her, flinching in pain as the Grimleal caught up to her, pinning her to the ground.

"Ryker. What about the girl?"

"Leave her," the Sorcerer said. "No one will care for her there, and the sun'll surely kill her."

Morgan was forced to her feet, and a gag was stuffed in her mouth. Wincing in pain as a Grimleal with a staff pulled the arrow and healed her, she hoped to Naga Mor would be alright.

* * *

"Please, you've gotta help me!" Mor looked desperately up at the man walking by her. He spared her a glance but moved on. Mor blinked back tears and moved onto the next person she saw. "My sister's in trouble, please, help me."

"Shoo!" The woman waved a hand at her and hurried on.

Mor sniffled. Would no one listen? She tried again. "Please, help me, my sister is in trouble."

The woman looked down at her. "Go back to the orphanage you came from!" She walked away.

Mor felt tears fall down her face. Desperately, she tried again and again, barely avoiding being hit once. She somehow ended up in the market place of the town she had run to while trying to escape the mean men. Ah, there was someone who looked like she would listen. She hurried up to the dark-haired woman, who was browsing wares at a stall. "Excuse me."

The woman looked around, then down. "What?" Her tone was a mix between boredom and irritation.

"Please, can you help me?"

The woman sighed, again seeming like she was bored with life. She set down the necklace she had been admiring and kneeled to Mor's level, eyeing her. "I can't do much, but my husband runs an orphanage. I'm sure we can take you in."

"I'm _not_ an orphan!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes!"

"Then where are your parents?"

"Ylisstol." The woman raised her eyebrows, and Mor continued. "My parents are Nykolai and Lucina. My sister is Morgan. My grandpa is the king of Ylisse."

The woman looked speechless: her eyes were wide and her mouth opened in surprise. "Nykolai's daughter?"

"Yes."

The woman gave an odd smile, and Mor was suddenly afraid. "That changes everything." She stood, glanced around. "Libra!"

A man hurried over. "What is it? Another child?" He looked closer at Mor. "By Naga, she is a spitting image of Lucina."

"That's because this _is_ Lucina and Nykolai's daughter. Now…" The woman turned back to Mor. "What's your name? Morgan?"

"Morgana," the girl replied sheepishly. "But everyone calls me Mor. Please, my sister's in trouble."

"Morgan?"

"Yes. Some meanies attacked when I was learning magic from Uncle Ricken. They grabbed me and my sister. Morgan and I tried to escape, but…" Mor trailed off, a sob escaping her lips. The man, Libra, kneeled down, trying to calm her.

"Where are they? These people who grabbed you."

Mor frowned, glanced around, and pointed. "Th-that way." She led them through the streets until they came to the edge of town. Mor knew this was the right side of town – she remembered the odd chicken coup. The desert in front of them, however, was empty.

"Kid, you better not be making this up," the woman sighed.

"Tharja, please," Libra replied.

Mor huffed. "I'm not. We were heading toward that big tower." She pointed at the building in the distance."

"The Table."

Mor nodded, recognizing the name.

"Come with us, Mor. We need to get you back to your parents," Libra said.

"What about my sister?"

"We'll do everything we can to rescue her. I promise you." Mor looked up at the man, tears streaming down her face once more. Libra sighed and picked her up. "Don't worry, Mor. Everything will be fine."

They walked back through town, Mor still being carried. The child, exhausted from tears and her trek through town and the desert, nearly fell asleep on the way to wherever it was they were going. She, however, lifted her head when she felt shade cover her. There was the coolness of a building covering her, a relief from the heat of outside. Libra set her down, and she looked around wearily. The room was empty, save for two red-headed girls curled up in a corner, reading. There was the distant noise of children playing. "Tharja, could you get Mor something to drink, and perhaps a snack?"

Tharja huffed. "Fine. Come on." Mor followed the woman through a doorway into a kitchen. Another girl, this time blond, sat at the end of a long table, drawing. She looked up. "H-hello, Mother," she stuttered. She couldn't have been older than five, but she spoke like she was older.

"Ebony. Mor, sit here next to her." Mor did as she was told, and a few moments later, Tharja had set out a small plate of snacks for both girls, and some water. She left the room silently, and Ebony heaved a sigh. "My mommy is a bit scary…"

Mor nodded in agreement. They sat quietly, munching on their snack until Mor asked is the girl had any siblings. Ebony nodded. "I don't see her much. She lives across the ocean with her husband and his scary wyverns. Do you have siblings?"

Mor nodded, munching on a cracker. "My sister…" She trailed off, tears once more filling her eyes. Ebony noticed.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's okay." Mor sniffled and wiped her face on her sleeve. The girls sat in silence again, until Tharja entered the room.

"Ebony, get your shoes on," she said.

"Where are we going?"

"We're taking Mor home."

Ebony nodded and stood, hurrying from the room. Mor glanced at Tharja. "Come on, Mor, let's go," she said. Mor stood and followed the woman out back, where Libra was saddling two horses. Ebony was standing near him, watching. "Everything set for when we'll be gone?"

"Why, Tharja, I didn't know you cared." Libra was smirking as he glanced at his wife.

"The brats are entertaining, to say the least."

Libra smiled knowingly and replied to Tharja's original question. "Yes, we are ready to embark." He checked the saddles one last time and the motioned for Ebony. The girl moved over to him, and he hoisted her up onto the horse's tall back. Tharja mounted behind her. Mor was next as Libra helped her up onto the other horse, which he then mounted. The two horses broke into a canter, racing out of the town and away from the Dragon's Table.

* * *

_Author's note: It's finals week. And I hate studying, so I decided to give you this. In fact, I hate studying so much that I've actually finished Grimleal's Wrath over the course f the weekend and the past two days. I will be editing and posting the remaining chapters bi-weekly on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There are only six or so chapters left in the story (it was never meant to be long anyway) so we'll be done here before the new year. _

_Also, to answer a question from one of the reviewers, Gangrel is not king of Plegia because he's disappeared, along with some of the other Spotpass characters (like Yen'fay). I don't have a firm head canon about him, but he's either dead or in the Outrealms ruling another country. So, see you on Thursday!_

* * *

_Published 12/10/2013_


	7. Six: To Hope is to Persevere

xIx

**Six  
To Hope is to Persevere**

xIx

Lucina emerged from her tent a week later. It was midmorning, and all around her the Shepherds were milling about, talking, laughing, or even training. There seemed to be more people than there were the night before. Confused, Lucina went to find her father.

As she searched, she saw someone very familiar, standing next to a wyvern. "Gerome?" The man turned, a slight smile appearing on his face.

"Hello, Lucina. It has been a while, hasn't it?" He gave her a quick hug, which she returned. Gerome was like a brother to her. They had grown up together, trained together, and fought together. It was safe to say that she had, at one point, had some sort of crush on him. But it had died long before they had travelled back in time. Now the rather quiet wyvern rider was married to the timid archer Noire, also one of the children from the future.

"How are you?" Lucina asked. Studying her long-time friend. His pale blue hair was spiked like it always had been, but he had removed the mask he had always worn here in the past. His expressions were much more readable now. "How's Noire? And Minerva?"

"We're all fine. Noire was swept away by Severa the moment we arrived, and I don't see her getting free any time soon."

Lucina smiled. "We'll have to catch up soon."

Gerome nodded. "I assume you're looking for Chrom?"

"Yes, have you seen him?"

"That way," Gerome replied, pointing. "He's probably still talking to my parents."

Lucina nodded and bid her friend farewell before scurrying off in the direction Gerome had indicated. Sure enough, she found Chrom deep in discussion with Cherche, Virion, Sumia, and Say'ri. Frederick stood off to the side. Virion was the first to notice the princess. "Ah, Lucina, beautiful as always!" Rosanne's duke said, waving his hands with a flourish.

"Hello, Virion," Lucina replied. She greeted the others as well, noticing that Cherche was clearly with child.

"We were waiting for you," Chrom said. "We're going to meet with Plegia's border guard to gain permission to cross over."

"You didn't have to wait," Lucina protested. Her father only smiled and nodded as Cherche and Sumia started off into camp deep in conversation. Virion, Say'ri, and Cherche's Minerva following behind them.

"Shall we?" Chrom asked, motioning toward the border. He started off, Lucina and Frederick accompanying him. They walked in silence, the only sounds were their footsteps and their armor. The hills rose up around them, blocking their view of the Shepherd camp. It was only when a Plegian guard saw them that the quiet was broken.

"Hold!" he called, raising his lance and tromping towards them. "State your names and business!"

Chrom, Frederick, and Lucina stopped. "We mean only peace, good sir," Frederick replied, one hand on his silver sword in case he needed to protect Chrom and Lucina.

"Your names?" the guard asked again.

Chrom stepped forward. "I am Chrom, Exalt of Ylisse. My companions are Princess Lucina and Sir Frederick. We have come to request safe passage into Plegia."

The guard lowered his lance. "Ah. Figured you'd be showing up sooner or later. Very well, come with me." He tromped off, and the three Ylisseans followed him to the guard house. They were shown into the main room, where another guard was busy with what looked like paperwork. The sigil on his uniform denoted his as a captain. "Sir, the Ylisseans," the guard said. The captain nodded.

"Thank you, soldier. You may return to your post." The man folded the sheet of paper he was reading, and stood. "Exalt Chrom, Princess Lucina, I am Captain Matthis. I lead the southern border guard unit. To what do I owe this visit?"

"We've sent a messenger requesting safe passage for Ylisse's Shepherds in your lands," Chrom replied.

"Yes, we received the messenger, and sent him on his way to the capital, as this requires his majesty's permission. However, neither your messenger nor the actual message could say why you are requesting passage."

Lucina swallowed. "My daughters were kidnapped," she said, her voice shaking on the last word. "They were taken by Grimleal, and we have it on good authority that they've hidden away in Plegia's deserts."

Captain Matthis looked rather stunned. "Grimleal? That cult is gone. They were a nuisance when Validar reigned, true, but they're gone."

"I thought the people of Plegia became Grimleal under Validar," Chrom said.

"Many did, yes, but with Grima's death, most of us snapped out of it. Either that, or they gave up. How could you worship something that's dead?"

There was an awkward silence. "So, our request?" Frederick asked.

"Unfortunately, I have nothing for you at the moment."

Lucina grit her teeth, fighting back tears. "But-"

"Milady, I am truly sorry for your loss. I would help if I could, as I know the pain of losing a child. While I cannot give you an answer now, I can guarantee that you will have it should you return tomorrow."

"Then we will return," Chrom said firmly.

Matthis nodded. "I will inform my guards."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Nyk!" Lucina hurried over to her husband, hugging him. He returned the hug, a small smile on his face.

As soon as Lucina, Chrom, and Frederick returned to camp, they realized that their Feroxi allies had arrived. They were informed that the two khans, as well as Nykolai, had gone to the strategy tent with Sumia, and were waiting for their return.

"Are you alright?" Lucina asked, running her thumb gently over a bruise on Nykolai's cheek.

"Yes, I'm fine." He sighed. "As fine as I can be. I let them down, Luce. I let down our Morgans…" He bowed his head. Lucina took his hand, silently giving him comfort.

"Go and catch up, you two," Chrom said.

"You sure?" Nykolai asked. His friend nodded. Nykolai sighed again and, his hand still in Lucina's, they left the tent, heading for their own, silent until they were in the privacy of their canvas dwelling.

"What did you mean, you let the Morgans down?" Lucina asked.

Nykolai looked away, his thumb restlessly rubbing his wedding ring. "I was there, Luce. I went right with the Sorcerer."

"Ryker," Lucina supplied sitting on the cot.

"That's his name? How'd you find out?"

"A Grimleal the Shepherds managed to capture after they attacked Ylisstol told us."

Nykolai nodded. He began to pace, and his wife studied him. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept well these past few days. "Ryker tricked me, I guess. I should have fought him harder, but before I could help out the Morgans, he took me away from them."

"That's how you ended up in Ferox?"

"Yes." Nykolai sat down next to Lucina. "I'm worried about them. I know Morgan has great tactical skills and is a fine warrior, and I know that Mor can use her magic to at least help some, but with all those Grimleal…"

"They're out numbered badly."

"Yes. Gods, I just hope that they're alright."

"We'll find them," Lucina said. "We cannot allow ourselves to lose hope."

"I know." Nykolai heaved another sigh, rubbing at his face. Lucina leaned over and kissed him. He kissed her back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

* * *

The next morning, the leaders of the newly reunited Ylissean League returned to the Plegian guardhouse, where Captain Matthis greeted them and asked them to wait in the main room before stepping out.

"Well someone's a puffed up bantam rooster," Basilio muttered. Next to him, Flavia made a noise of agreement. Chrom, Nykolai, and Lucina stood next to them quietly.

There were footsteps coming closer, and Matthis returned, followed by someone they hadn't been expecting: the king of Plegia. He was a tall man, dressed in clothing fit for a king whose lands were made up of desert. He was clearly of the myrmidon class, with two swords hanging from his waist. He spent no time with formalities, instead, getting straight to the point. "Matthis has informed me that you wish to enter Plegia with armed forces to rescue two of your own who have been kidnapped by a group that has supposedly been disbanded. Is this correct, Chrom?"

Chrom drew himself up. "We only wish to bring them home safely, Arata. You know as well as I do that Ylisse has had enough wars with Plegia."

"And yet you pick one with the supposed Grimleal?"

"They have been causing turmoil in Ylisse recently. We are only trying to protect our own."

"We haven't had any reports of people crossing over the border," Matthis argued.

Nykolai huffed. "That's because they teleport. I should know: I was teleported to Plegia then to Ferox by their leader just last week. The Grimleal are at large again, and they need to be stopped."

The room went silent. Outside, there was the sound of horses and the shouts of guards. After a few moments, footsteps sounded. Arata sighed. "Your claim in hard to believe. There have been no signs of the Grimleal for years. I don't know if I can trust you."

"I'm afraid you will have to, sir."

The voice was oozingly familiar, and everyone turned to the doorway to see who the newcomer was.

"Tharja?" Nykolai asked in disbelief.

"Hello, Nykolai. Is this yours?" She stepped to the side, revealing a small, blue-haired girl.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Mor ran into her parents' open arms, tears once more filling her eyes. "You have to help Morgan!" she said. "The meanies still have her!"

Nykolai looked from his daughter to Tharja. Libra had appeared behind her, a child in his arms. "What happened?" he asked.

"Mor somehow managed to escape the Grimleal who captured her and Morgan," Tharja said.

"Morgan helped using her magic," Mor sobbed. "But the meanies got her."

"Yes," Tharja continued. "She found Libra and me, and we knew we had to help."

"I'm sure there was some underlying factor, wasn't there?" Nykolai asked. Tharja smirked in a way that made him think she wasn't over her obsession for him.

"Anyway, Mor was able to tell us what their home base is. Guess where it is. The Dragon's Table."

"You're sure?" Chrom asked.

"Pretty much. Well, sir?" She turned to Arata, who had been quietly listening to the conversation.

He sighed. "Very well. I will allow the Shepherds only to cross the border on the condition that I accompany you."

"Your majesty, you can't be serious!" Matthis protested.

"Oh, but I am. I trust this is fine, Chrom?"

Chrom hesitated, but nodded. "Of course."

"Then you have my permission to look for your missing one in Plegia."

Lucina sighed in relief, holding Mor close. The little girl cried into her shoulder. "It's okay, Mor," she whispered gently into her daughter's ear. "Everything will be fine."

* * *

_Author's note: Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not too happy with this chapter either...but it was important to the plot so I had to write it. I already know that this chapter could be better, so do me a favor and tell me what could be fixed, and how I could fix it. (Saying, for example, that my writing is stiff and I need to make it more natural is not very constructive in my opinion. I don't know how to unstiffen my writing... Also! Matthis? He's a cameo from another Fire Emblem game. Which one? Guess._

* * *

_Published 12/12/2013_


	8. Seven: Trapped

xIx

**Seven  
Trapped**

xIx

How long had it been? A week? Two weeks? She figured it was around two weeks, as the Grimleal usually came in to give her water and a miniscule portion of food had come in around fourteen times, according to the tally marks she had scratched into the side of the altar. But by that same token, it could have been only a week if the Grimleal were coming in twice a day. She didn't know.

Morgan lifted her head, taking in her surroundings yet again. She was in the Dragon's Table, chained to the altar on which, seven years ago, the Fire Emblem had sat ready to awaken the fell dragon. She had thought she would never come back here, but she had been proven wrong.

She picked up the waterskin the Grimleal had left her and weighed it carefully. It was half-empty. She would have to ration herself better today, but when all she got was a single crust of bread, water seemed the best thing to fill her up. Of that, she knew she had more to spare. She took a sip of the water, letting it cool and moisten her mouth. Setting the waterskin aside, she leaned against the altar and closed her eyes, trying to conserve her strength.

She had tried to bust out with a Valflame of Bolganone spell, but found out immediately that the cuffs around her wrists were cursed so that she couldn't channel the magic. Even the weakest wind spell was impossible.

She twisted her wedding ring, wondering if her husband and family were okay. She couldn't forgive the Sorcerer if he or his friends hurt them.

Speaking of…

The side door opened, admitting the man Morgan had come to associate with pure, family-breaking evil. But she was too tired to even scowl at him. She closed her eyes, wishing the stupid man who had introduced himself as Ryker would go away.

He didn't. "My, my how _dejected_ you look. Given up hope that your family's is coming for you?"

"No. Now scram, bozo."

"How can you trust them, after all they've done?"

"They've loved me! They accepted me the moment I joined the Shepherds!" Morgan sat up straight, glaring at the man. If he wanted a fight, by Naga, she would give him one. "You don't know them like I do!"

"Are you so sure? Your parents replaced you. They're still replacing you!"

"No, they-"

"Your so-called sister took your place! And yet you let her and your family throw you to the side." He kneeled, cupping his hand under her chin so that he could force her to look at him. "Do you honestly keep lying to yourself?"

Morgan struggled, and nearly bit Ryker's hand had he not moved it away. "I've still got my husband."

"The philanderer? You think he cares? He's probably moved on to some other flower."

"You're wrong."

"Then where is your family? Why haven't they come?"

Morgan scowled. "Maybe you stopped them," she muttered. She turned away from Ryker, blinking back tears of exhaustion, hunger, and sorrow. Where _was_ her family?

"Think on it, my dear." The Sorcerer left the room. Morgan sighed, curled up on the floor, and tried to sleep.

It was what she assumed was the next day when Ryker returned. He leaned lazily against the altar, pretending to act sympathetic. "Still no sign of them, dearie," he cooed. "Are you sure you're family's coming?"

"I told you before. Yes. They. Are."

"Then where are they?"

Morgan scowled. "How am I supposed you know when I'm locked up here?" She rattled her chains at him, the sound echoing through the room.

"You bring up a good point, dear."

"And stop calling me that!"

Ryker smirked, tugging down on the hem of his hood. He had yet to show her his face clearly. "Well, I have an offer for you, my dear. You could become one of us. Become a Grimleal of the highest order and realize your destiny."

"Yeah, a few things wrong with that idea. One, I follow Naga, not Grima. Two, Grima is dead. Three, I will never, ever consider joining your vanity cult."

Ryker was struck dumb for a moment. "Just remember the offer when you realized the truth: your family has replaced you; they don't want you anymore."

Morgan chucked her waterskin at him, but he ducked. "Get away from me!"

Ryker smirked. "Think on it, will you?" He kicked the waterskin back over to her and left.

He tried again the next day, this time with a new lie. "Well, I have some news that you might find…informing. That ragtag band of warriors you call Shepherds? They've been spotted back in Ylisstol. They've pretty much disbanded once they found you younger self in the desert."

"Liar."

"Oh no, not this. I have scouts following their every move." Another lie, but she wouldn't know that. "I know it's hard to accept, but you have an offer for a new family."

"No." Morgan was sick of this idiot's prattle. She covered her ears. "Go away."

"They don't love you, Morgan. Face the truth!"

"Shut up!" Was that…a sob? Morgan knew she was breaking, and this man was pulling her apart. "I'm…I'm their tactician. They need me."

"One of them. The less important one, in their opinion."

"No, you're wrong!"

"Am I?"

"Shut up, shut up!" Her voice rose in pitch, and she could feel her left hand burning – the same place her Brand of the Exalt was.

"Face it, my dear, you have no place among them."

Morgan raised her hands at him, spouting magical chants and hoping that one of them would fry Ryker. The chains grew hot and she gasped, crumpling into a ball and sobbing. Ryker, his mission complete, left the room. He stalked the halls of the building until he was stopped by a fellow Grimleal Sorcerer.

"Sir, I was told to tell you that the Shepherds are camped right outside the scouting line."

"They've finally come, have they?"

"Yes."

"Very well, we shall prepare for the show. Now, bring our dear Morgan some more water, will you?"

"Sure." Ryker walked off, and the other sorcerer watched him, an insufferable smile crossing his face. "That was easy. Nyahaha!" He hurried off, ending up in the main room with food and water for Morgan. He stopped in the side doorway, his smile fading slightly as he heard Morgan crying. He moved over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She swatted at him, but he caught her wrist. "Hey, none of that."

Morgan looked up. "H-henry?"

"Shh! Here." He handed her a fruit and a piece of bread, along with a full waterskin. She quickly ate the food, grateful for something fresh and tasty. "Can you hold on just a bit longer?" Henry asked.

"I…I'll try."

"Good. I'll be back later…if I don't die, teehee!" He hurried put of the room, leaving Morgan watched him leave, dazed. Henry had always been weird, but she hoped she could trust him.

She curled up once more, falling into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_Author's note: Short chapter is short, but this was the bit I wanted in this chapter so yeah. Hope you enjoyed!_

* * *

_Published 12/17/2013_


	9. Eight: End's Beginning

xIx

**Eight  
End's Beginning**

xIx

As soon as the sun set, Henry escaped the Table, returning to the Shepherd camp. "Halt, fiend!" the guard called.

"Aw, Owain, it's me," the sorcerer said, lowering his hood. "Don't cut me to bloody ribbons!"

Owain frowned, dropping character. "Um…gross?"

"Nyahaha!" Henry moved off into camp, finding Nykolai and Chrom hard at work, planning a strategy. They looked up as Henry entered the tent. "Mission success!"

"Good," Chrom replied. "And?"

"The place is loaded with Grimleal. When we fight them, there's gonna be lots of blood and death!" Henry held back a laugh at the thought. "Ryker's also an idiot. I spoke straight to his face and he didn't seem to think I was a spy."

"Well, that changes some things," Nykolai stated. "And Morgan? Did you find her?"

For the second time, Henry's smile faded. "I did, but she's in a bad way. No blood or anything like that, but it was still really sad."

Nykolai nodded, his face expressionless, save for his eyes, which showed sorrow and anger mixed together. Then he got this look on his face that showed he was completely determined to succeed. "I've got an idea."

"What?" Chrom asked.

Nykolai sat up straight, mentally shaking off his grief. "Alright, here's what we're going to do, and Henry, you'll be playing a big role. With the possibility of blood."

"Yeah, blood! I'm in!"

Nykolai grinned and told his plan.

An hour later, Henry returned to the Table to wait out the night. Back in the camp, the Shepherds were given the order to prepare for battle the next day.

* * *

Morning couldn't have come fast enough. Henry, on only a few hours of sleep, slipped down to the main room where Morgan was being held, under the pretense of giving Morgan her ration of water. Unfortunately, there was already a Grimleal sniper in the room. He turned and frowned. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Henry hesitated, but walked over, as if there was nothing odd going on. Morgan glanced up at him and returned to gazing at the stone floor. Henry didn't miss the spark of hope that had flashed through her eyes. "Just giving the prisoner some water, like I was ordered."

"That is my job, and it has already been done, isn't that right, chickie?" He roughly nudged Morgan with his boot. Morgan protested feebly, trying to edge away as the Grimleal gave a short bark of laughter. "Now," he said, turning back to Henry. "Who are you?"

The gig was up. Henry dropped the waterskin and raised his hands toward the archer. "I am your worst nightmare. Nyahaha! _Ruin!_" The man was sent flying into the altar, knocked unconscious for now. "Aw, I was hoping for some blood." He knelt by Morgan's side, extracting a set of lock-picking tools he had borrowed from Gaius – he had noticed the cuffs had been hexed the day before. It took him longer than he would have liked, but he managed to get the cuffs undone.

Henry helped her stand. "Let's go, quickly, otherwise this will be a lost caws." Morgan couldn't help but smile at Henry's crow jokes. But there was no time for japes. They hurried from the room, winding through halls and taking down every enemy they saw. They hadn't even made it to the exit when alarm bells began to ring.

"Time's up," Morgan gasped.

"Not quite. This way!" He led her down a side passage and suddenly they were out. They started running toward the Shepherds' camp, but stopped in their tracks when they saw what was ahead. Morgan swore while Henry cackled.

The Grimleal forces stood between them and the Shepherds' camp.

"I might not be able to help you," Morgan said, "but I'll try."

Henry nodded, eager to start slinging spells. But even _he_ knew that he would die if he didn't get help. "Come on, Chrom, where are you?"

* * *

Lucina sat on her cot, hugging Mor close to her as she watched Nykolai don his armor. She, along with Lissa, Cherche, and a few others, would not be going out onto the battlefield, instead protecting those who couldn't fight or couldn't fight well at the moment.

"Nyk," Lucina said.

Nykolai turned, struggling to get one of his bracers on. "Luce?"

Lucina moved Mor gently from her lap to the cot, helping her husband with his armor. "I love you," she whispered as she finished, letting her hand slip into his.

"I love you, too. And don't worry. I'll be fine." He gave her a cocky smile.

Lucina hugged him. "Just…promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"By stupid you mean…?"

Lucina scowled half-heartedly at him. "You know exactly what I mean."

Nykolai grinned. "I know." He kissed her briefly, then let her go, letting his hands travel to her stomach, which was finally showing signs of the unborn child she was carrying. "I'll try to be as not-stupid as I can be. I'll make sure I'm here for our baby, and our Morgans."

Lucina nodded. "See that you are."

Nykolai moved over to Mor, who had been watching silently. He hugged her, and she returned the hug. "Be careful, Daddy," Mor said.

"I will. I love you, Mor. Remember that."

Mor nodded and let her father go. She sniffled.

A distant set of bells began to ring and Nykolai frowned. "Alarms," Lucina said.

Nykolai nodded. "Something happened." He gave one last look at his wife and daughter before sprinting from the tent. He could hear Chrom shouting for the Shepherds to form their ranks. Nykolai joined him, Basilio, Flavia, and Arata on the front at the crest of a hill, and saw what they saw. The Grimleal had pulled their army.

"Gods, look at them all," Arata said. "When you said Grimleal, I thought you meant a handful. This is a sizeable force." Chrom could only nod.

"Look!" Flavia explained, pointing with her sword to the base of the building. To figures were sprinting from the Table, only to stop as they took in the army.

"Morgan and Henry," Chrom muttered. "We need to help them."

"Rush the Grimleal," Nykolai said. "Catch them off guard."

Chrom nodded turned to the gathered Shepherds and drew his sword. Falchion gleamed in the sunlight. "Charge!"

The Shepherds did so, each shouting a battle cry. They raced over the hill and toward the enemy's back line. Grimleal turned, giving cries of surprise and scrambled to meet them. Beyond them, Morgan and Henry began to move, aiming to get behind the Shepherd lines.

Henry was crazily sending off spell after spell, cackling as each one hit or killed a Grimleal. Morgan tried to help out, but the most she could muster was an occasional Elfire spell, which didn't so much damage against the enemy. Henry cleared an opening and pulled Morgan along. "This way, come on!"

Grimleal jumped in their way. Henry blew them away with a couple well-aimed spells, but one of them managed to cut Henry's arm. The strange sorcerer grinned wider. "Oh, look! Blood!"

"Not now!" Morgan protested, picking up a sword and blocking just in time. The Grimleal snarled at her, pushing their locked blades closer to Morgan.

"Me, me, me!" Henry cried, killing the swordmaster before Morgan was overwhelmed. They ran fast, so close to the Shepherd front. Suddenly Henry seemed to trip, falling to the ground. Morgan turned, and saw Henry struggling to rise, blood soaking his clothes from a nasty javelin wound. "Agh…it hurts…so nice…" Morgan looked up in horror, seeing a general raise his ax as he stepped over Henry.

"Time to tip the scales! _Thoron!_"

A bolt of lightning seared the battlefield, slaying the Grimleal where he stood. The enemy collapsed, nearly falling on Henry. Morgan turned and saw the person she had longed to see for days now. "Father!"

Nykolai grinned. Behind him, Inigo and Chrom were fighting the Grimleal off. Father and daughter started towards each other, only to stop as a flash of light flared between them. Nykolai scowled. "Ryker."

"Hello, Grima-slayer. Come for you pathetic little girl, have you? It's a waste: she's utterly weak and useless…at least, as she is now. Still, she was incredibly easy to break. I don't think she's pulled all the pieces back together, have you, my dear?"

"Shut up, you!" Morgan shouted, pointing her sword at him. Her hand shook, and the Sorcerer smirked.

Nykolai drew his sword, a blade of shining silver that glinted in the sun. "Let's end this."

"Very well." Ryker raised his hands, black magic surrounding his arms. The two charged each other, attacking with all the ferocity each had. Morgan watched fearfully before running to Henry's side.

"Agh, so much…blood….So cool!"

"You'll be alright," Morgan assured him, helping him to his feet. She winced as a bolt of Thoron seared the air and glanced at her father. He was holding his own fairly well, but so was the Sorcerer. Both backed off, their feet kicking up clouds of dust as they circled, waiting for the other to strike. Nykolai let loose another bolt of thunder magic which the Sorcerer deflected into the sky. Thunder rolled over the battlefield. Morgan saw her father's eyes gleam. He had a plan. He began to throw bolts of Thoron at Ryker, who kept deflecting them as best he could. Clouds of sand rose up as several bolts crashed into the earth.

Then it all stopped. The dust cleared and Morgan saw Ryker standing stiffly, the point of Nykolai's sword protruding from his back. Nykolai pulled the sword free, his face expressionless. Ryker, gasping, fell to the ground, his blood staining the ground. Nykolai stared him down for a moment before sighing, flicking the blood off his sword.

He was only able to take one step before Morgan saw Ryker rising from the ground. "Father, look out!"

Nykolai turned, and felt a burning in his middle. He gasped, looking down. Ryker had stabbed him with a bolt of lightning, the magic sending waves of pain through his entire body. "See you in hell," Ryker spat, before collapsing, his energy gone. Nykolai stumbled backward, coughing. He tasted blood as he fell to his knees.

Morgan, wide-eyed, felt an uncontrollable wave of rage crash over her. Her left hand burned and she lost control, flinging spells at any Grimleal who dared come take revenge for their leader. Henry backed away, catching a glance at her eyes, which had turned red, like a Risen's…or like Grima's.

Morgan shot a spell at an incoming Shepherd, who dropped to the ground just in time. "Oy, Morgan!" Gaius complained. He glance at Chrom, who seemed at loss at what to do. Inigo, however, had an idea. He charged Morgan, rolling and side-stepping to avoid the spells being thrown at him. He grabbed Morgan's arms and held them down, planting a full kiss on her mouth.

Morgan's eyes closed, and she went limp, falling into Inigo's arms. Chrom ran to Nykolai, who had fallen completely to the sand. "Get her out of here!" He shouted. Inigo nodded, hoisted Morgan into his arms and ran. He didn't stop until he had reached the Shepherds' camp.

* * *

_Published 12/23/2013_


	10. Nine: Despair and Hope

xIx

**Nine  
Despair and Hope**

xIx

Morgan's head ached and she groaned, putting one hand up to her head. "I think she's coming around." Morgan opened her eyes to see Inigo watching her with concern. "Hey," he said, a smile crossing his face.

"Inigo."

There were footsteps and Morgan turned her head to see who was coming. Lissa was walking toward them. "I'm glad to see you're awake," the sage said happily. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I have a massive hangover."

"How would you know what that feels like?" Inigo asked, surprised.

"I did have a life before you met me, Inigo." Morgan gave him a small smile that quickly faded. She slowly sat up, rubbing her aching head. "How long was I out?"

"Long enough for me to get you back to camp."

There was a moment of silence. Lissa leaned heavily on her staff. "You look like you're hungry, Morgan, can I get you anything?"

"Oh, yes, please." The mere thought of food made the tactician's mouth water. Lissa smiled and left the tent. Morgan glanced around, then at her husband. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"I almost killed you. I lost hope, my sense of who I was. I couldn't stop myself…I killed so many people in cold blood, and with each I could hear his voice growing louder in my head."

"Whose voice?"

"_His_. The fell dragon's voice." Morgan's eyes were wide with fear now, her voice low and frightened. "He was egging me on, pushing me further over the edge. I almost gave up and gave in, but you stopped me. You drove him away with a single kiss."

"Well, I have been told I kiss like an angel." Inigo wiggled his eyebrows, a cheeky smirk crossing his face.

Morgan rolled her eyes, a smile on her own face. "And who told you that?"

"Oh, this fine young lady I know. She happens to be my wife." Morgan smiled as a blush crossed her husband's cheeks. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love her more than anything. I was so worried when she disappeared, but I knew she'd be okay, because she's a brilliant tactician. Her skills rival those of her father." He paused, seeing Morgan look away, tears in her eyes. She fidgeted slightly in his embrace. "Sorry. I'm sure he's fine. He's surpassed death before. And we've a plethora of fine healers to set him on the mend."

Morgan nodded. "Thank you, Inigo. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anything for the smartest and most beautiful girl I know."

Morgan blushed at the complement and snuggled into his embrace. They didn't get long to sit in peace before the flaps of the medical tent flew open. "Sis!" Morgan was only able to draw herself from Inigo's embrace before being nearly tackled by a pair of small arms. Mor hugged her sister tightly, refusing to let go.

"Hey, Mor," Morgan greeted, freeing one arm to hug her sister. She looked up and saw Lucina and Lissa following at a slower pace. The sage had a steaming bowl in one hand, and the smell made Morgan's mouth water.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Lucina said, hugging Morgan despite Mor's persistent clinging. "I was so worried about you." She let go. "Mor, let your sister eat."

Mor reluctantly let Morgan go, instead sitting next to her. With her arms free, Morgan accepted the bowl of stew from Lissa with a quick thanks, not hesitating to eat the delicious food as fast as she could.

"Slow down there," Inigo laughed. "You'll make yourself sick."

Morgan glanced up at him, licking her lips. "If you'd had nothing but hard bread crusts and water for…however long it was…"

"Over two weeks," Lissa supplied.

Morgan nodded. "And they only gave you that once a day, you'd want to eat as fast as possible, too." She returned to her meal.

Lucina sighed with sorrow, sitting by Inigo on the cot next to Morgan's. "Well, at least it's all over now. Cynthia flew over from the battlefield to let me know the battle was over. Ryker is dead, and the remaining Grimleal have surrendered and are in King Arata's custody."

"Arata? Isn't that the king of Plegia?"

"Yes. He accompanied us from the border."

"He's also a fantastic poker player," Inigo added. "Kicked all our sorry butts the other night. I never heard Gaius swear so much before."

Morgan grinned for a moment and slurped up the last of the stew. She licked her lips one last time to make sure she got everything before sobering once more. "Did Cynthia say anything else?"

Lucina hesitated and glanced at Mor. "She mentioned a couple injuries, but didn't give any details." She rubbed at her face, but Morgan could tell Cynthia had informed her of Nykolai. Morgan grit her teeth, feeling that same anger and despair. A nasty voice whispered in her head.

"Gods, he's back," Morgan muttered.

"Who's back?" Lucina asked. Morgan shook her head and felt Inigo take her hand. She remembered what he had told her and tried to calm down. Lucina exchanged a glance with Lissa.

"Mor, come help me," Lissa said, reading her niece's expression. The six-year-old nodded and hopped off the cot, going over to Lissa, who showed her how to roll the thick cotton bandages that were needed for the wounded coming back from battle. Mor dutifully rolled the bandages, and handed them to Lissa, who sterilized them in hot water.

Morgan watched for a moment until her mother caught her attention. "Now tell me what's going on. I know there was more than you just fainting on the battlefield, though having very little to eat probably played a part. What did they do to you?"

Morgan flinched at her mother's stern gaze, the Brand she bore on her left eye making her look more serious. But she relented, telling the whole story of her imprisonment, and what had happened during the battle. Lucina looked horrified, angry, and sad all at once. Morgan finished, rubbing the back of her left hand.

"How is it possible that Grima could be called up through you, Morgan?" Inigo asked softly. "You aren't him, and you certainly don't have his heart."

Morgan shook her head. "I don't know," she said, biting back a sob. "I just don't know."

There were shouts for Lissa outside the tent. The occupants froze and Lissa hurried from her task. "Mor, come here," Lucina said. Mor obeyed with confusion. Lucina set her in her lap, holding her tight, facing her away from the entrance, yet the little girl managed to turn her head and look. Lissa came back, holding the tent flaps open for Henry and Miriel, the former leaning on his wife despite his protests that he was okay with losing blood. Chrom and Libra, who supported between them a badly wounded yet fully conscious Nykolai, came next.

Mor squirmed, obviously seeing her father. "Daddy!" She struggled to break free of Lucina's arms, but the princess held firm, looking away from the sight of her husband. "Mommy, let me go! Daddy!"

Morgan, however, couldn't take her eyes away. Her father's entire front was covered with blood, dripping onto the ground and soaking into his favorite tactician's coat. His armor hadn't been enough to stop Ryker's last attack.

"I'll take her," Libra said as soon as he helped Nykolai onto a cot. "Be with your husband." Lucina gratefully let the holy man carry Mor from the tent, the child still fighting to get to her father. Lucina stood, hurrying to Nykolai's side. "I'll be fine, Luce" the grandmaster managed to croak before gasping as Lissa finally pried his armor off.

Morgan stood, tears in her eyes. "I can't take it," she sobbed softly, and hurried from the tent. Inigo followed her. He stepped outside, catching his wife's hand and pulling her into a hug. She sobbed into his shoulder. "I can't lose him again, Inigo. I just can't!"

"I know. It'll be okay, love. It's gonna be okay."

They stood for a few minutes, more Shepherds with wounds filing by to the medical tent. At a nearby fire pit, Libra was holding Mor back from returning to her father. Morgan took a deep breath, extracting herself from Inigo's embrace. "Let's go back to my tent and rest," Inigo suggested. "We'll bring Mor along so Libra can help the wounded." Morgan nodded and sniffled, wiping her face on her sleeve.

Mor, once they had returned to Inigo's tent, cried herself to sleep. In the silence, Morgan pulled off her gloves to inspect her hand. She didn't like what she saw. "Inigo…"

Her husband took her hand. There was her Brand of the Exalt, which she'd had for as long as she could remember. But there was more. A faded pattern on her skin showed clearly the extent of Grima's influence on her. Behind the Brand of the Exalt was the six-eyed mark of Grima, the same one Nykolai had borne before killing the fell dragon.

"Maybe…" Morgan said, tugging her glove back on. "Maybe he was able to manifest himself because of my father. So what does that mean for Mor?"

"Hopefully nothing. The exalted blood in strong in you both, and you have a good heart."

"I'm weaker than my father. He never gave into Grima at all."

"You were weak from lack of food, Morgan. You've a strong mind and soul. Don't let sorrow take you. He feeds on despair." Morgan nodded. "Go to sleep, love."

"I don't want to sleep."

Inigo took her in his arms, careful not to disturb Mor, who was asleep at the end of the cot. "Then at least rest."

* * *

Nykolai saw his daughter leave, feeling a pang of concern for her. Then everything was thrown from his mind as the pain flared up again. He felt Lucina's hand on his shoulder, and vaguely heard her telling him to be still so Lissa could clean the wound. "Gods, Lissa," Nykolai growled. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out from the pain. He coughed, tasting more blood in his mouth. He coughed again, unable to get a full breath.

"Aunt Lissa, he's choking on his own blood." Lucina's voice sounded incredibly panicked.

Lissa's response was to swear. She reached for her mend staff and healed the wound. Then she grabbed Nykolai's shoulder, rolling him onto his side where he continued to cough up blood. He finally calmed, though his breathing was harsh as he rolled once more onto his back. Lucina wiped his mouth with her sleeve, tears forming in her eyes.

"Can't you do anything else?"

Lissa shook her head. "There's only so much a staff can do, unfortunately. It's all up to him now. I can give him something for the pain."

"Oh gods, yes, Lissa," Nykolai gasped. Lissa nodded and hurried off.

"You idiot," Lucina muttered to her husband. "You said you'd be safe."

"I tried. I really did." He coughed slightly. "I'm still here, right?"

"Yes, thank the gods, you are."

Lissa returned with a small cup. She lifted the grandmaster's head and helped him drink the potion. "Let me know if he starts coughing badly again," the sage said. Lucina nodded and her aunt move off to tend to the next wounded Shepherd.

Nykolai could feel the pain fading fast, and with the relief came utter fatigue. Everything seemed distant. He raised a hand to Lucina's face, wiping her tears with his thumb. "I'm sorry, Luce. I'm so sorry."

Lucina cupped his hand with her own. "Don't be," she said. "It's not your fault."

"I…let you down….I promised I would stay by your side but…"

"Don't talk like that!"

Blackness curled into his vision. "I'm sorry." His hand went limp, falling from his beloved's face, and he knew no more.

* * *

_Published 1/2/2014_


	11. Ten: Awakening

xIx

**Ten  
Awakening**

xIx

* * *

Who was he again? What was his name? He couldn't remember. His world was warm and fuzzy, but full of pain. Everything ached.

As more and more things faded into existence, he became aware of just how groggy he was, but his confusion cleared. He no longer doubted his name.

Nykolai woke to silence. The white canvas of the tent glowed silver in the moonlight. Gentle snores met his ears. Someone softly tread by his cot, pausing next to him. He closed his eyes, unwilling to get into a conversation at the moment. "How is she, Sumia?"

"Finally asleep." There was the sound of rustling blankets.

"And Nykolai?" He felt someone's hand brush his forehead.

"Still out, but the looks of it."

There was a sigh. Nykolai knew that noise anywhere. Chrom was the one standing at the end of his cot.

"Come on, love," Sumia said. "You need to rest."

"I'll meet you back at the tent."

"You'd better." Sumia's footsteps sounded, growing fainter until they disappeared altogether.

Chrom took a few steps. "Oh, Lucy, you've worried yourself to exhaustion again, haven't you? Don't worry, my poor girl, you're buffoon of a husband will be just fine."

Nykolai frowned. He opened his eyes to see Chrom leaning over the cot next to his. Lucina was sound asleep, tucked under a blanket. "Did you just call me a buffoon?" Nykolai rasped, smirking when he saw Chrom jump slightly.

"And if I did?" the Exalt replied. "Glad to see you're awake."

Nykolai sat up, wincing in pain and resting his head in his hands when his vision swam with dizziness. "How long…?"

"Four days. Almost five."

"Gods." He rubbed his middle, feeling the bandages wrapped around his chest. "No wonder I'm so hungry."

Chrom laughed softly. Beside him, Lucina stirred, but didn't wake. "Come, let's go somewhere where we won't wake her or the others. We can get you something to eat." Nykolai nodded and Chrom handed him his freshly cleaned and mended tactician coat, which he put on with a bit of struggle. Chrom helped Nykolai to his feet and out of the tent.

"So," Nykolai asked, "what did I miss? Anything exciting?"

Chrom grinned. "I wouldn't call it exciting, but yes, you missed quite a bit."

The two men were sitting in the entrance to the kitchen tent. It had taken them a good half hour to get there. Nykolai had been rather weak, and had to stop and rest for a bit. The grandmaster had just finished a light meal and was resting, staring up at the stars with the man who had become his best friend.

"Let's see, Ferox and Ylisse are now in a treaty with Plegia."

"That's a first."

"Indeed. We signed it this morning. Four years of peace and good will before it'll be renewed. Arata was quite adamant about forming a bond of peace. We'll be able to trade with them now, as will Ferox. Emm will be happy to hear the news. She may not remember, but I know she still holds peace in her heart."

"She does indeed. She never really changed." Chrom shook his head, sipping at the coffee he brewed for him and Nykolai. "So what else happened?" the grandmaster asked, blowing on his own mug of the bitter drink. He didn't usually care for coffee, but still had some on occasion.

"Morgan and Inigo left."

"What? When?"

"Two days ago. They didn't say they were going until Lissa and I caught them packing."

"Where did they go?"

"No one knows, but they assured us they meet us back in Ylisstol in a month or so."

"How was Morgan when they left?"

"Very skittish, but she's fine. Lissa made sure she was recovered enough from her ordeal when we caught them. The poor girl has gone through so much."

"I didn't help her, did I? I saw what happened on the battlefield. To think that she would inherit my cursed blood."

"It's not cursed."

"Not anymore. Gods, I've given her and Mor a terrible burden."

"They're both strong girls. And smart. Mor managed to sneak into the medical tent the morning after the battle. She wanted to see you so badly."

Nykolai sighed, sipped at his drink and looked up at the full moon, which had touched the horizon. "And what of the Grimleal?"

"Either dead or surrendered. We sent Cordelia off to the Plegian capital with a missive from Arata requesting troops to apprehend the prisoners. Arata himself has promised to make sure the cult does not rise again."

"Good."

The friends sat in silence for a while, sipping their coffee and watching the moon fade as the sun began to peek over the horizon, shedding soft light into the clear sky. Nykolai sighed in contentment, adjusting himself and wincing slightly at his still healing wound. That would take time to heal, staff or no staff. Once the pain faded, Nykolai glanced at his friend. "Do you remember those days after we defeated Walhart? Coming home, travelling with all of the children we had found."

"Yeah. Those were some pretty peaceful days, despite the worry of Grima. You had just gotten married, hadn't you?"

"Yup. Best days of my life."

"Why do you bring that up?"

"Well, this kind of feels like it did then. Peace, no more fighting, Ylisse is going to be safe. Plus, I've got my son or daughter to wait for. It's all rather exciting."

"It is, isn't it?"

The sun broke over the horizon. Chrom stretched his arms over his head, yawning. Frederick, as always, emerged from his tent to start the camp's fires. Olivia and Lon'qu appeared as well, moving off to a secluded part of camp. Nykolai figured Olivia was going to practice her dancing as the sun rose.

They saw Lucina next, and she hurried over to them, joy on her face as she saw her husband awake. She hugged him tight, mindful of his wound. "You have to stop making me worry," she said.

"You do that all to yourself. I told you I would be fine, didn't I?"

"Yes…"

Nykolai smiled up at her, then frowned, noting the dark circles under her eyes. "How much sleep have you lost?"

"A lot," Chrom muttered as he finished off his coffee and received a glare from his daughter. "You should rest, Lucina."

"I have rested."

"Not long enough. Nykolai was just going to go and rest, weren't you?"

"I was? I mean of course I was." He got shakily to his feet, and Lucina held out a hand to steady him. His face was an inch from hers. "We can rest together, right, Luce?"

"Fine." With one arm around her husband, Lucina led Nykolai off to their tent to rest. Chrom watched them go, a smile crossing his face. He had a pretty good feeling that things were going to turn for the better.

* * *

Rain poured down from the sky one day a month after the battle. The day was dreary, but it was good for farmers. Rain was usually good for farmers. The palace of Ylisstol was chilly, but a certain grandmaster had ideas to fight off the cold. He and the rest of House Ylisse had gathered in a cozy family room, lit a fire, and spent the day with each other. Around midafternoon, Nykolai, Chrom, and Frederick ventured to the kitchens to fetch hot chocolate. As they were making their way through the main foyer, the doors to the outside opened, admitting two very wet Shepherds who hadn't been seen in a month

"Gods, if I get sick, I'm not gonna be happy," Morgan stated, brushing her wet hood.

"Where have you two been?" Nykolai asked. Chrom and Frederick continued onto the kitchens after greeting the wayward Shepherds.

"Hi, Father!" Morgan greeted, her face lit up with a smile. "I'm so glad to see you're alright! I'd give you a hug, but…" She raised her arms, showing off the dripping sleeves of her coat. Next to her, Inigo shivered.

Nykolai laughed. "Go change you two and come join us so you can tell is your story. We're all in the residential family room."

Morgan and Inigo started off, trailing puddles of water and mud. Nykolai shook his head and continued to the kitchens, aiming to add two extra mugs of hot chocolate to the tally.

Twenty minutes later, Chrom, Frederick, and Nykolai returned to see their family gathered in the family room. Inigo and Morgan were by the fire, dry, but wrapped in blankets. Mor, Lucy, Lil Owain, and Cynthie were playing a board game. Cynthia and Owain had gone with their spouses to spend time in the Shepherds' Garrison. Emmeryn, Ricken, Lissa, and Sumia were chatting softly, and Lucina had stretched out on the couch that she and Nykolai had been sitting on. The arrival of the hot chocolate was greeted with much enthusiasm.

"Your feet stole my place," Nykolai teased his wife, holding two mugs of the steaming beverage. Lucina looked up at him and pulled her feet up, only to rest them on her husband's lap as soon as he sat down. He sent her a look, causing her to laugh and sit up to accept her hot chocolate.

"Well, Morgan and Inigo," Chrom began. "Care to regale us with your adventures?"

Morgan looked up from her hot chocolate then glanced at Inigo. "We went to Mount Prism," the dark-haired swordsman replied.

"Since I'm of the Exalted line, I thought maybe Naga would help me with this." Morgan set down her hot chocolate and pulled off her left-hand glove, showing the mixed brands on the back. Everyone except Emmeryn, who didn't know the story behind the marking, looked rather surprised. Nykolai nearly dropped his mug. He instead set it down. "That's how far it went?" he asked.

"Yes," Morgan replied. She pulled her glove back on. "I wanted to see if Naga was able to…rid Grima's presence inside me."

"Was she?" Lucina asked.

Morgan shook her head. "No. Just as with the fell dragon we fought all those years ago, she could not fully destroy him. He is suppressed, hopefully for the rest of my life, and that's the best we can hope for."

There was silence. Rain pattered against the windows and at the low table, Lucy cheered as she won their game, the other children protesting. Morgan glanced at the children, a smile playing across her lips.

"Did Naga explain how Grima was able to manifest himself in you?" Chrom asked.

Morgan nodded, sipping her cocoa before explaining. "She made it clear the moment she first spoke to me: she called me daughter of the fellblood. It is because I'm my father's daughter…before he, to quote Mother, 'did something stupid.'"

Nykolai rolled his eyes at this. "So Mor…?"

"Carries the same. If she's lucky, Grima won't be woken. The little guy is lucky." She motioned toward Lucina to indicate her unborn sibling. "He or she is purely of the exalted bloodline." She took another sip of her hot chocolate. "Fortunately for me and the rest of the world, I don't possess the heart of Grima, so I won't be turning into a dragon anytime soon. The most he'll get out of me is the same level of control Validar had over Father way back when. But like I said, Grima is suppressed, and he won't be rearing his ugly face any time soon."

The adults were silent once more. The only sounds in the room came from the children and the crackling fire. Then Emmeryn spoke up. "I am…glad everything is fine…in the end."

Lissa grinned. "I couldn't have said it better myself, Emm!" She produced a pack of cards and joined Morgan and Inigo on the floor. "On that note, who wants to play?"

"Depends on what we are playing," Frederick said.

"Something where the card-sharks known as tacticians can't win easily," Sumia suggested. "And not poker."

"Good because I'm awful at that," Nykolai said, sliding off the couch to sit on the floor. Chrom, Frederick, Ricken, and Sumia did the same so they formed a circle. "Slapjack?" There was a general consent from those playing and Nykolai pulled another deck of cards from his coat pocket from when he and Lucina had been playing earlier. Lucina and Emmeryn watched as Chrom shuffled the two decks.

"Frederick, try not to break any fingers this time…" Nykolai teased. The last time they had played this, Frederick had gotten a little too overenthusiastic. He hadn't actually broken any fingers, but Gaius had walked away claiming at least one bone was bruised badly.

"I shall endeavor to keep all fingers intact," the stoic knight replied, a grin on his face. And so the game began, filling the room with laughter and even some cursing.

* * *

_Author's note: One more chapter left. I was asked by a reviewers what the gist of the story was, and I realized that perhaps that is my weak spot. The point of this story, I suppose, is that what if Morgan inherited her father's fell blood, and what would happen if that's exploited. So, thanks to that reviewer! See you next time!_

* * *

_Published 1/9/2014_


	12. Epilogue: To the Future We Hold

xIx

**Epilogue  
To the Future We Hold**

xIx

Their eyes were glued on the chess board. Any single move could turn the tide. The princess reached out, moving her white piece. She glanced up at her opponent, the Brand on her left eye making her gaze more serious. After all, this was a serious match.

Her opponent made her move, her own Brand on the back of her hand catching her opponent's eye. The tactician smiled. "Check mate."

"What? I thought I…agh!"

"If you had moved your bishop instead of your knight, you might have stood a chance, Lucy."

Lucy pouted, slumping in her seat. "I knew I shouldn't have asked you to play chess. You tacticians don't play fair."

Mor grinned. "We do, we just have a good strategy."

"Strategy-schmategy."

"I could let you borrow some of my tactics books."

"Father gave mother the same offer," Morgan said from her place on the couch. "She could barely keep up with all the strategies as it was."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," thirteen-year-old Lucy stated blandly. "I should like to think I'm different. After all, we have established how different the younger selves are from the older ones."

"Indeed. Anyway, Lucy, rematch?" Mor asked.

"Only if you go easy on me."

"I will make no such promise." Lucy glared at the twelve-year-old. "Fine, fine! Gosh, no need for the death glare."

The girls set up a new game. Just as they began a blur sped into the room, running over to the girls and hiding behind Mor's chair. "They're gonna find you," Mor stated. The boy looked up at her, brushing his mauve-colored hair from his eyes.

"Really?"

"Yup."

The boy sped off, choosing his refuge with an empty couch under the windows. There was silence for only a moment until another young child entered the room, rubbing her eyes. "Mama? I can't sleep." Morgan put her book down and scooped her four-year-old into her lap.

"Well, Maggie, let's wait and see Mark get caught."

There was an indignant huff from the couch, followed by a sneeze.

"Bit dusty under there?" Mor asked.

"Shh!"

Mor laughed and continued playing her game with Lucy. Only a few minutes later did Nykolai enter the room. "Where is that boy?"

Everyone, even Maggie, pointed to the couch, and Nykolai nodded, moving over to the piece of furniture, peering under it. He frowned and looked behind the couch, only to see his son scurrying from underneath the couch. He ran away from his father, but only made it to the door. Lucina stepped out in front of him, scooping him up. "Caught you, Mark! Time for bed."

"No, Mommy!"

"Yes, Mark."

Nykolai joined them, grinning. "Those were some sound tactics there, Mark."

"I switched places as soon as you stopped looking under the couch."

"Impressive," Mor said.

"Thanks, sis!" The five-year-old beamed.

"Anyway, bedtime, Mor," Nykolai said, turning to his younger daughter. She slumped in her seat.

"Father!"

"Now, Morgana. You can finish your game tomorrow."

Mor sighed. "But Lucy-"

"Also has to go to bed," Sumia said, appearing behind Lucina's shoulder. Lucy sighed. "Come on, Lucy. Cynthie's already ready, and your father will tell you a bedtime story."

Lucy agreed, and Mor, having no opponent, gave up as well. The girls, followed by Lucina, Mark, and Sumia, left the room. Nykolai turned to his eldest and the little girl in her arms. "What's up, Maggie?"

"Can't sleep," the girl replied.

Morgan brushed her daughter's dark bangs from her face as Nykolai came closer. "We're just going to sit here in the quiet for a while," Morgan said softly.

"Alright. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Father."

Maggie hugged Nykolai. "Night, Grandpa."

Morgan flashed her father a smile, and Nykolai left the room. The tactician held her daughter close, humming a soft tune. It had been a big decision to have a child; she didn't want to pass on her somewhat awakened fell blood. But in the end, Maggie was one of the best things to happen to her. The little girl was so full of life, and very clever. She brought joy to each day.

They sat together for a while, and slowly Maggie drifted off, just as her father entered the room. "There you are," Inigo said, sitting next to his wife. Maggie stirred sleepily at his voice. Morgan smiled at her husband, kissing him briefly.

"I think it's time for bed."

"I would say so." They stood, Maggie shifting in her mother's arms. Inigo blew out the candles that had kept the room lit and together with his wife and daughter left.

Once Maggie was in bed, Inigo took Morgan's hand as they walked down the hall to their own room. "You're not wearing your glove today."

Morgan glanced at her hand. Grima's brand was still present, faded behind the Brand of the Exalt. Normally she wore a fingerless glove over that hand to hide the marks. But she had taken it off that morning and hadn't put it back on. "You know…I don't really mind that. It's not like Grima's gonna come back any time soon, if at all."

Inigo grinned. "There's my girl." They entered their room and shut the door, reveling in the peace.

For Ylisse had been in an era of peace for almost six years, and it looked like it was going to stay that way.

* * *

_Author's note: There you have it. Thanks all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. I know it's not that long, and if you have any questions, comments, or whatever, fell free to let me know!_

* * *

_Published 1/14/2014_


End file.
